The Philanthropist
by deviant bamboo
Summary: Edward is a lost soul, haunted by the altruistic deeds of a dead man. Taking refuge with a group of reformed degenerates in downtown Los Angeles, he struggles to make sense of his reality. Life is hard, but somehow he and his band of misfits make it work day to day. That is, until he stumbles across Bella one night. She'll change everything. AH, Canon couples.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! ****I've ****had a song playing on repeat in my car for a few days now and it has given birth to this plot bunny that simply will not leave me alone. I don't know how regular these updates will be as I am still very focused on finishing Evolution, but we will see where this goes.**

**This story is all human; no zombies, aliens, or wormholes in this one. Canon couples, but it does come with a mature content warning. There are mentions of sexual assault, drug abuse, and violence in this story, so if any of these situations are triggers for you…please don't continue.**

**Otherwise, buckle up and let's go for a ride.**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

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><p>EPOV<p>

"I'm outta here, Em!" I shouted over AC/DC blaring Highway to Hell over the sound system. Slapping my bar towel on the counter, I quickly untied the apron from around my waist and headed to the back to retrieve my hoodie. My fucking shift was supposed to be over an hour ago, but we were slam busy and I couldn't leave Emmett by himself with the entire bar.

Rosalie stuck her head through the door, glancing quickly around the stock room until her baby blue eyes met my stern green ones. "Hey Cullen, Emmett says we need toilet paper at the house. Says he used the last of it this morning. Think you can stop on your way home and pick some up?"

I rolled my eyes at her and shrugged into my hoodie, pulling a beanie down over my head. "I picked some up last night. It's in the closet in the hallway."

"That's a stupid fucking place to keep toilet paper. Why don't you just put it in the bathroom?" Rose was wearing her bitch face which meant I was about to be on the receiving end of a rather long rant. "Oh, and another thing. Could you please stop hiding you dirty underwear in mine and Emmett's laundry? It's fucking disgusting, you sneaky bastard. Do your own fucking laundry. And would it kill you to rinse off your goddamned dirty dishes-"

"Hey, Rosalie?" I asked, cutting a glare back in her direction as I opened the back door. "Why don't you get off my dick and go ride someone else for a while, eh?" Not willing to wait around for her witty response, I ducked out the door and jogged around the side of the building, coming out of the alley by the main road. 'Masen's' green neon sign buzzed above my head and illuminated the concrete under my feet.

I tightened my jacket around me as a blast of frigid air swept down the sidewalk. "Fuck!" I hissed through my teeth, thinking back to just last week when the temperature was a mild fifty degrees at night. Last Wednesday a cold front moved through and we'd had below freezing temperatures after sunset ever since. At least there was no rain, though. I couldn't even remember the last time L.A. saw snow, but freezing rain sucked giant donkey balls.

I jammed my hands further into my hoodie pockets, fingering the holes at the bottom, and hunched my shoulders up closer to my ears in an attempt to keep them warm. I headed off in the direction of home, checking off my 'To Do' list in my head in order to distract myself from the fact that my nose and chin were numb and I could no longer feel my ass cheeks. Three more blocks and I would be home…just one foot in front of the other for three more blocks.

I was pulled from my mindless march by soft moans coming from the intersecting alley up ahead. "That's one way to stay warm," I chuckled to myself. It had been two years since I'd last had sex; two long years with just me and my fist and a lukewarm shower. The moans and whimpers got louder with every step I took. I really tried not to look as I passed by, but hey…I'm a guy. So I peeked.

My first thought was utter confusion at what I was seeing. My glance had been so quick that I had to actually stop and do a double-take. The alley was empty save for an overflowing dumpster and a large pile of oil covered blankets next to it. But it was the dainty feet peeking out from under that pile of blankets that gave cause for concern. Two _bare_ feet.

My heart leapt up into my throat at the mere thought of what I would find under that blanket. Cautiously, I crept closer as her whimpers got louder.

"Miss? Are you okay?" I asked hesitantly. This was incredibly stupid. It very well could be a trap; some girl with her pimp or boyfriend waiting in the shadows to mug me, not that I owned anything of value. But I sure wasn't looking for a fight tonight. I almost turned and headed back the way that I came, but the mystery girl let out a sharper cry. "Do you need help?" Still no response from the quivering lump of oily fabric.

My hand shook as it hovered over the blanket. With a thumping heart and frozen fingers, I gently pulled it down. "Oh God," I gasped at the sight underneath. The girl was young, probably around my age or a little younger, maybe twenty two if I had to guess. On a normal day she would be a stunner with porcelain skin and mahogany hair, but something horrible had happened to this poor girl. Her whole face was swollen and her lips were split open, blood dribbling from her nose and down her chin. She had been beaten black and blue and continued to whimper even though I was absolutely sure the girl was incoherent.

I pulled the blanket down a little further, following the path of bruises down her sternum until it became glaringly obvious that she was naked underneath this blanket. Closing my eyes, I swallowed hard and quickly yanked the blanket back up to under her chin as I straightened to my full height and took a quick step backward. This girl needed a fucking hospital…now. I couldn't carry her there, so I would have to get a cab. But I had no money…no driver's license… no fucking cell phone. That only left me with one option. One that I was loath to pursue, but I was sure the fucker would understand given the situation.

Kneeling down, I wrapped the girl snugly inside the old blanket like a small burrito and gathered her in my arms while trying not to jostle her too much. Fuck, she was tiny. I tried desperately to flag down a cab, but even at one o'clock in the morning cabs could be hard to come by downtown. Licking my chapped lips and bracing myself against the cold, I let out the sharpest whistle I could muster. A moment later, a yellow van pulled up to the curb. I fumbled with the back door for a moment before I was able to get it open and both of us situated inside the toasty interior.

"Where to? Hey man, is that chick okay?" the cabbie asked, eyeing us in his rearview mirror. He was an older gentleman and watched me suspiciously while he awaited my answer. I was somewhat shocked by his question. Genuine concern was a rarity in Los Angeles.

"No, she's not. I found her like this. Cedars-Sinai please…as quick as you can." I cursed silently, hoping this guy wouldn't think the worst and call the cops right then and there. Luck seemed to be with me as the taxi lurched forward, accelerating in speed toward Cedar-Sinai Medical Center and a man I hadn't laid eyes on in over a year.

I looked down at the small girl still whimpering in my arms. She was going to be in so much pain when she woke up. My heart ached for her as I wiped away some of the blood smeared on her face with my sleeve. In a display of comfort, I gingerly pulled her hand out from under the blanket. What I found made my blood turn to ice. A blue rubber tourniquet was tied loosely right above her elbow and a needle protruded from her arm four inches below the band.

Fuck. She was a drug addict.

I breathed steadily through my nose while trying to fight my own personal demons raging within me. It had been three years since I had touched the stuff, but once an addict…always an addict. The urge never went away.

My eyes wandered to the needle once more as the monster in me fought its way to the surface. But my internal battle took a back seat as I peered closer at the crook of her elbow. Bewildered, I pulled her other arm free from the blanket and examined it closely.

Huh…no needle tracks. This girl wasn't a drug addict. _This was done to her. _Who was this girl and what had she done to deserve this?

The taxi screeched to a stop in front of the glass sliding doors marked 'Emergency' in bold red letters. I quickly wrapped the girl's arms back up inside the blanket and scurried from the vehicle, rounding the side to speak with the driver.

"Hey man, if you can give me one minute to get her inside, I'll be right back out with your money-"

"Don't worry about it," the cabbie muttered, waving me off. "I've got a daughter about her age. Just…take care, okay?" He nodded toward the hospital doors and gave me a small, sad smile before pulling away from the curb and heading back out into the night.

For a moment I simply stared after him in disbelief, making a mental note of his cab number and company name so I could track him down later and thank him properly. I rushed forward with my precious cargo through the glass doors and into the Emergency waiting room, shouting for help the entire way. I was immediately bombarded with nurses and doctors and a security guard pushing a gurney. I laid her gently on the small padded rolling table and backed away to give the professionals room to work.

"What's her name?" a young guy in blue scrubs barked at me as they quickly rolled the girl down a brightly lit hallway toward a set of double doors.

"I don't know…I found her like this in an alley. Please…" I begged as I tried my best to keep up. I wasn't even sure to whom or for what I was begging for exactly. We stopped in front of the doorway and one of the nurses swiped a badge across a scanner mounted on the wall. The doors opened automatically and the group was once again on its way. The robust security guard held his meaty hand out against my chest, preventing me from going any further.

"Sorry son, but you can't go back there-"

Nodding, I backed away slowly as the heavy double doors closed behind the retreating throng of medical personnel. I felt a sharp tug in my chest as if my body was willing me to go after her. Jesus, I just needed to know that she was going to be okay.

I trotted over to the reception desk at the front of the waiting room. Seated inside the spherical piece of furniture was a young blond woman methodically filing her nails while she smacked loudly on a piece of chewing gum. Everything about this chick screamed fake; from her bleached hair and orange spray tan all the way down to her stationary silicone tits. I cleared my throat to get her attention but was met with her continuously smacking lips.

"Excuse me!" I finally bellowed as my anxiety reached its limit. My nails dug into the formica countertop as I waited for this vapid bitch to acknowledge me.

She looked up at me with disdain from underneath her equally fake eye lashes and then proceeded to eye fuck me while she licked her greasy lips. I absolutely loathed the fucker that invented lip gloss.

"How can I help you?" she purred, her nasally voice grating on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

"Will you page Dr. Cullen please? Carlisle Cullen?" I tried to calm my demeanor as I realized how harsh that sounded, but my patience was wearing thin and I needed to retain some composure for who I was about to face and the arduous task before me.

"And you are?"

"Edward Cullen." Her eyes widened at my declaration before picking up the phone and paging Dr. Cullen to the ER.

Several minutes later, a familiar mop of blond hair appeared as Dr. Cullen approached the front desk, his face buried in a patient chart while he completely ignored his surroundings. "What is it, Jessica?"

"Actually, I had you paged," I answered, stepping toward Carlisle.

The patient file in his hands dropped to the floor as his head shot up, immediately scanning the room. As his eyes met mine, his jaw dropped in surprise. "Edward? Is it really you?"

"Yeah, Carlisle, it's me," I sighed as I bent over to scoop the folder off the floor and hand it back to him. He just stared at me dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, but no words were spoken. "Look, I know it's a shock seeing me, but I need your help."

"Are you in trouble again?" he asked, his eyes narrowing to slits as he appraised my appearance, obviously looking for any sign that I was using again.

I fucking knew this would happen. Carlisle always had a knack for jumping to the wrong conclusion. "No, Carlisle, it's not me. I brought someone into the ER a few minutes ago…a young woman. She's beat up pretty badly and I just want to make sure she's okay. I was hoping that you would take a look-"

"Alright, alright," Carlisle interrupted, holding his hands out in front of him. "You said she was just taken back?"

I nodded. "About ten minutes ago."

Carlisle sighed heavily and looked down at his watch. "Okay, I'll go check on her. Go to my office and lie down for a bit. You look dead on your feet. I'll come talk to you when I know more."

"Thanks, Carlisle," I breathed, relief flooding through me as I took off toward his office. As I opened the heavy door and stepped inside I was bombarded with memories of a happier time. I ran my fingers across his desk, thinking back to when Carlisle would help me with my homework after school. Strolling over to the window, I looked down into the orange tinged parking lot and the inky blackness beyond the safety of the lamp posts, remembering the park just on the other side. There was a small basketball court off to the right where Carlisle and I would often shoot some hoops to blow off some steam.

Tears stung my eyes as I turned away from the window and threw myself down on the couch. That old life was gone. I had made my choices and so had he. No sense in rehashing the past. I flipped over to my side, bunching a throw pillow up under my head and was asleep within minutes.

The slamming of a door startled me awake. I sat straight up, blinking hard and shaking my head to try and clear the sleep induced fog from my brain. It took me a few moments to remember where I was. The hospital. The girl. Carlisle.

I scanned the room, looking for the source of the slamming door. Carlisle sat behind his desk with his head in his hands. My heart pounded in my ears as I feared the worst.

"Carlisle-"

"You told me you weren't in trouble." Carlisle's voice was monotone and direct, tinged with a hint of disappointment.

"I'm not in trouble, Carlisle. I've been clean for three fucking years," I huffed in annoyance.

"She had a needle in her fucking arm and a massive dose of heroin in her system!" Carlisle shouted, rising from his chair so fast that it flew back against the wall and toppled over. His eyes blazed with fury as he glared at me. "She's listed as a fucking Jane Doe! You don't even know this girl, do you? You're just shooting up with random trash now?"

I leapt to my feet as white hot anger raced through my veins. "Fuck you, Carlisle!" I spat. "You don't know dick about me or my friends. I was walking home from work tonight and passed by this girl in an alley. I couldn't leave her, Carlisle. You know why."

The hard expression on Carlisle's face seemed to soften a bit at my explanation. He hung his head and leaned on the front of his desk, unwilling to meet my gaze."You're not lying? You really aren't using again?"

"Look, I'll piss in a fucking cup if you want. Just please…tell me about the girl." I sunk back down into the couch cushions, my head throbbing from our little confrontation.

"I'm holding you to that, Edward. I want to know for sure," Carlisle sighed. "Consider it payment for my consultation fees."

"Fine," I acquiesced.

"Your friend was beaten badly. She has a severe concussion, three broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and a severely broken ankle." Carlisle righted his chair and sat back down behind his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose as he chose his next words carefully. "The ankle needed surgery, so she's been prepped and is currently in the OR. The initial toxicology report came back positive for heroin, but she doesn't have any needle tracks anywhere else on her body-"

"I noticed that too."

Carlisle quirked his eyebrow at me as if I had just disclosed some confidential piece of information. "I pulled some hair samples and sent them to the lab. I want to know if this girl is an addict. I'm sorry if this bothers you, but she's my patient so it's my call. We also performed a rape kit as is standard procedure, but I can't discuss that with you without her permission."

I wrung my hands in my lap as I silently nodded. "How long will she have to stay?"

"At least a few days to recover from the surgery on her ankle," Carlisle responded. "If she is a heroin addict, she may experience withdrawal symptoms while she's here. I can't predict any further than that as I have no information about her. I can't contact her family. I don't even know her name or age. I'll just have to wait until she wakes up."

I sighed heavily and closed my eyes, steeling myself for the inevitable rejection I was sure to receive with my next question. "Can I wait, Carlisle?"

His brows furrowed in confusion as he studied me closely. "Wait? For what?"

"Can I wait for her to wake up?" I lowered my gaze to the floor and prayed that Carlisle would see that I only had good intentions. "I know she's going to be transferred to a room soon. I just want to talk to her when she wakes up…make sure she's going to be okay."

"I don't know, Edward," Carlisle sighed. "That's completely against hospital policy."

"Please."

Carlisle watched me carefully for several long minutes before finally nodding in agreement. "Fine, but if she wakes up and freaks out and asks you to leave, you have to go Edward."

"I understand. Thank you, Carlisle," I sighed, relaxing back into the couch.

Carlisle turned to his laptop and began typing away while mumbling about HIPPA violations. "She's out of surgery and they've taken her to room 406 on the fourth floor."

I was out of my seat and headed for the door before he finished his sentence. Halfway to the elevator, I heard him shout, "See me before you leave the hospital, Edward!"

It felt like an eternity before the elevator dinged and the doors slowly parted to allow me entrance. As I made my way to the fourth floor, I wracked my brain for what I would say to this girl. Would she be angry that I was there? God, I hoped not. Although my actions did seem a wee bit…stalkerish.

I arrived on her floor and made my way slowly to her room, cracking the door open just enough so I could peek in. The sun was just starting to rise, filling her room with an early morning glow. I didn't realize I had been here this long. Judging by the hue of the light, I would guess it to be around six in the morning. I crept inside, closing the door behind me, and took a seat in the padded recliner in the corner.

Looking over at her prone form in the bed, my heart tugged again. I had no idea how she would react to last night's events or my lingering presence, but I was resigned to be here to do what I could for her. My eyes grew heavy as the methodical rise and fall of her chest and the periodic beeping of the machines lulled me into a trance-like state. Not really asleep, but not fully awake either.

Sometime later, a sharp gasp brought me back to my senses as I jolted fully upright in my chair. I looked over toward the bed and was met with the most beautiful hazel eyes I had ever seen. Mystery girl gaped at me as she trembled slightly, reaching around the bed blindly for anything that could possibly be used to protect her.

"Who are you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review/fav/follow! I appreciate it so much. So, everyone seems to have questions. We may get a few answers in this chapter.**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

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><p>EPOV<p>

I was a deer caught in the headlights, unable to look away from her beautiful eyes but too scared to fucking move.

"Who are you?" she whimpered, her anxiety escalating as the unmistakable scent of sheer terror filled the small space. Her eyes continued to dart around the room as her once slow and methodical breathing turned into shallow gulps of air. She was a few moments away from a full blown panic attack. I would know.

"Hey, hey…okay. Please calm down," I pleaded. "Give me just a few minutes and I will explain everything."

"Are you here to hurt me?"

Confused as to her question, I tried to make myself seem as nonthreatening as possible. "I promise I'm not here to hurt you. I found you last night on my way home from work," I explained. "My uncle is a doctor here, so I brought you in."

She seemed to relax a bit at my explanation, sinking back against the flattened pillows and picking at the threads of the worn blanket covering her legs. She shifted her weight slightly, groaning in pain as the movement jarred her injured ankle. "Where's here, exactly?" she asked in a whisper.

"Cedar-Sinai Medical Center," I replied. "My name is Edward Cullen, by the way. And you are?"

"No one that matters…" she mumbled, under her breath. Maybe she hoped I hadn't heard her or maybe she just didn't care either way. But I did hear her…and it ripped my heart in two.

"Everyone matters," I whispered, the heavy lump in my throat choking me as I thought back to a day three years ago when I pondered the reason behind my own existence in this very same hospital.

"Bella…just Bella," she answered, her eyes downcast as she spoke.

"Do you know who did this to you, Bella?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Do you have any family my uncle should call?"

"No…no family. I have no one. They're all gone." Big fat tears fell from her eyes and onto the blanket, her breath hitching every so often.

"How old are you? Where do you live?" Carlisle barked from the doorway as I had failed to notice his arrival.

"Twenty one and I don't live anywhere. Are you his uncle?" she responded meekly as she turned her head to look at Carlisle.

"You're homeless?" Carlisle asked, his tone laced with reproach as he completely ignored her question.

"Carlisle!" I admonished as I glared at him. His condescending attitude would get us nowhere with this girl. "Can I speak to you a moment in the hall?" Without giving him a chance to answer, I rose from the recliner and strode across the room. Grabbing Carlisle's arm, I dragged him out into the hallway and down a few feet from the door. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" he spat. "I'm trying to protect you! I can see it already. You're getting sucked in by that sob story. You don't know that girl!"

My heart stuttered at the look on my uncle's face. The compassion that once resided in his eyes was no more, filled now with emptiness and abhorrence. I ran my hand through my hair, pulling at the roots in frustration. "When did you become so heartless, Carlisle?"

"You know when," he spat, looking at me with disdain.

I nodded solemnly and lowered my gaze to the floor. "Yeah, I suppose I do." Looking back toward Bella's door, a hollow ache took up residence inside my chest. I'd once been where she was now. Maybe I could help her. "How long will she need to be here?"

"Oh good grief, you've already made up your mind," Carlisle sighed, shaking his head in disgust. "Your father would be so disappointed-"

"Don't!" I hissed through my teeth. "Don't you dare bring my father into this. I can see it was a mistake to come to you. A mistake I don't plan to repeat. Just tell me when she will be released and I will take care of the rest. You can go back to pretending I don't exist."

His eyes softened for the briefest of moments, a flicker of emotion passing through them, but before I could grasp it, it was gone again. Replaced by the hardened gaze to which I had grown accustomed. "I'll keep her until tomorrow morning for observation and then she's all yours." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a specimen cup. "You promised. You can leave it in my office as I'm sure you'll need to use the phone," he stated before striding away from me to return to his rounds.

I breathed deeply through my nose, trying to calm my nerves before heading back to address the issue with Bella. As I rounded the doorway into her room, I found her lying on the bed, curled into a fetal position with her back facing away from me and the blanket pulled almost completely over her head. Her soft sniffles floated through the air, carrying with them a weight that sat heavy in my chest.

"Bella?"

"What will your uncle make me do?" she whispered in between her broken sobs.

"I'm not sure I understand," I answered, completely perplexed by her question as I stepped around the foot of the bed and back toward the recliner in the corner. "Why would he make you do anything?"

Her blotchy face peeked out from an opening in the blanket as her hazel eyes sought me out. "I'm homeless. I have no family…no friends…no job. Now I have what I'm sure is going to be a whopper hospital bill with no money to pay it. So what is your uncle going to take as payment?"

The meaning behind her words hit me like a ton of bricks. She thought she would have to offer _services_ to pay her hospital bill. Fuck…what had happened to this girl? I slid the recliner toward the side of her bed so that I could sit and be close to her as well. I was dog fucking tired and still had one hell of a trek home to make when I left here.

I leaned forward a bit in the chair so that I could see Bella's eyes clearly. "It doesn't work that way. No one expects…_that_…of you. The hospital will bill you, but my aunt works in the Financial Services department. I'll talk to her for you."

"How long will I be here?" she asked meekly.

"Carlisle is going to release you tomorrow." Her eyes welled up with tears and her tiny frame began to quake. "Wait, Bella, please calm down. I know you don't know me, but it seems like you could use a friend. Do you not have anywhere you can go? Anyone you can call?"

She shook her head slightly as her quiet sniffles returned. "No. No one," she whispered through the barrier of white woven threads.

I hung my head as her hopeless cries rung in my ears. I very well could regret this later, but something in her eyes spoke to me. Maybe it was kismet…or maybe I had just been up for going on twenty nine hours.

"I am sure that Carlisle will be back by in a little while to address your injuries and aftercare instructions, but I can give you the cliff notes version," I began, knowing that this information could very well break her. "Your ankle was badly broken and they had to place a pin in it to stabilize the joint. You won't be able to walk on it for at least eight weeks. Your wrist was also fractured, so while you'll be given crutches for the ankle, you won't be able to use them because you can't put pressure on that wrist."

She seemed to sink further into her cocoon of blanket, perhaps hoping to disappear altogether. "I know that things seem bad, but maybe I can help you-"

"How can I trust you? I don't know you," she whispered. "How do I know you don't want to hurt me?"

My ire flared at having my intentions brought into question. "If I wanted to hurt you, I could have done so last night, when I found you naked and drugged out of your mind with a needle in your arm." I instantly regretted my quick temper, tramping it down, reminding myself that this poor girl really _didn't_ know me. And here I was asking her to take a blind leap of faith. I was an idiot.

"What did you say?"

Her face drained of all color and her lips trembled. Oh, fuck. She didn't know. I was really walking on thin ice here. "Bella-"

"I was naked?"

I simply nodded instead of offering a long-winded explanation.

"And t-there was a n-needle in my arm?" Again, I nodded as she dissolved into hysterics. "W-what was in t-the needle?"

"Heroin," I whispered. I watched horrified as her face fell even further. This girl was no fucking drug addict. "I take it you didn't inject yourself?"

She shook her head violently as the alarm on her heart rate monitor began to beep loudly.

I leapt from my seat and sat on the foot of her bed, placing my hand on her back above the blanket. "Bella, you're having a panic attack. I need you to calm down," I pleaded. If I couldn't get her breathing under control, she would pass out for sure.

Carlisle stormed into the room with a nurse hot on his heels. "What the fuck happened?"

I jumped off the bed with my hands raised in the air in surrender, watching helplessly as Bella gasped for air. "Fuck, Carlisle…she's having a panic attack. Please help her-"

"Move!" he shouted, pushing me out of the way and barking a med order to the nurse. She returned in less than fifteen seconds with a syringe in hand. Carlisle grabbed the syringe and pushed it into Bella's arm, depressing the plunger quickly and stepping away.

It took several long moments, but Bella's breathing finally slowed and her heart rate returned to normal as her eyes fluttered shut and she drifted off to sleep.

I glanced over at Carlisle and nodded my thanks. "What was in that syringe?" I asked him, hoping that she wouldn't have any lasting effects from the drugs.

"Don't worry," he sighed, running his hand through his unruly blond hair. "It's just a mild tranquilizer. Nothing that would conflict with the heroin still left over in her system." He looked at me hesitantly and opened his mouth a few times as if to say something but then changed his mind. With a quick nod of his head, he dismissed his nurse and gently closed the door behind her before turning back to me.

"What? What is it?" I asked, slightly perturbed at his reluctance.

"I really shouldn't be telling you this, but I got back the results of her hair follicle testing-"

"And?"

Carlisle looked toward the bed at a sleeping Bella, his eyes glazed with remorse as he answered. "The tests show that she hasn't used any type of illegal substance in at least ninety days."

"Well that explains the freak out," I mumbled. "Whoever did this to her…they must have beat her unconscious first. She had no idea that she was found naked or that she had drugs in her system." I plopped back down in the recliner with my head in my hands.

"I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions," Carlisle muttered with his hands shoved into his lab coat pockets. "Look, she's going to be out cold for a while. Why don't you go up and see Esme? I told her you were here, but she doesn't want to approach you if you don't want to see her."

"I harbor no ill feelings toward Esme-"

Carlisle snorted in irritation. "No…just toward me."

My lack of reply was answer enough. We shifted around each other uneasily before I finally broke the silence. "Well, I've got to take a piss," picking up my specimen cup from the table and heading toward the door. "I'll stop by Esme's office after I hit the payphones-"

"Edward, please don't call Marcus collect…just use the phone in my office," he mumbled before shuffling toward the door and out of Bella's room.

I leaned down toward Bella's sleeping form and whispered, "I'll be back soon." Shutting her door behind me, I quickly made my way to the bathroom to take care of business before heading straight to Carlisle's office. I strolled around to the chair sitting behind his desk and plopped down, sinking into the leather cushions. My eyes roamed across the top of his desk before settling on a half-eaten sandwich sitting on a paper napkin next to some charts Carlisle was working on. I tossed my now full specimen cup right up next to his sandwich. Call me juvenile, but I may have even made sure they were touching.

My thoughts turned to Bella as I picked up Carlisle's desk phone and dialed a number I seldom used but would never forget. Fucker picked up on the first ring.

"Carlisle, is everything alright?" a wheezing voice called out from the receiver.

"Jesus, Marcus…did I interrupt your morning tryst with your receptionist?" I snickered.

"Ah Edward…always a pleasure," Marcus chuckled. "I see you're calling from the hospital. Are you alright, son?"

I sighed wearily and leaned my forehead onto the desk. "I wasn't aware that you and Carlisle kept such close contact that you would recognize this number."

"He and your aunt are the only people I know at Cedar-Sinai, Edward," Marcus quipped. "But we do keep in contact…for your sake."

"I'm a grown man, Marcus," I huffed already highly agitated at the direction this conversation was headed. "I don't need you or my uncle looking after me."

"That remains to be seen, Edward," he responded in a clipped tone. "Now as I'm sure this isn't a social call…what can I do for you?"

I sighed, contemplating the best way to go about this. "I brought a girl into the hospital tonight. She'd been attacked. She's homeless and has sustained significant injuries-"

"And you want to help her…yes?"

"Yes." I waited with bated breath while Marcus chewed over my request.

"You know I've always respected you and your opinions," he paused briefly, "but the other two tenants have only been there for a little under a year. Do you really think adding another is wise?"

I closed my eyes and breathed steadily through my nose, trying to keep from blurting the first thing that came to mind. After a long moment, I finally whispered, "Please just come speak with her, Marcus."

"Fine," he huffed. "I'll be there at noon. I assume you will still be there as well?"

"Yeah, she's in room 406. I just need to call Emmett and get him to cover my shift at the bar."

"Then I will see you both at noon," he stated, his old swivel chair squeaking in the background. "Edward…one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"I got a call from Peter today," Marcus announced jovially. "He's graduating college next month…and he's engage to be married. Just thought you'd want to know." My mind wandered back to a dark time filled with long shadows, needles and pain, sleepless nights and the pungent smell of chemicals. Shaking my head briskly to clear away those dangerous thoughts, I smiled at the thought of Peter being happy. Good for him.

"Thanks for telling me," I sighed. "I'll see you at noon." I disconnected the call and quickly dialed the number to the house, praying to any deity that would listen that Emmett would answer instead of Rosalie. The gods obviously ignored my plea.

"Hello?" Rosalie chirped.

"Hey Rose, can I talk to Em for a minute?" I beseeched in a sugar sweet voice.

"Are you fucking serious with this shit, Edward? You'd better be dead, asshole," Rosalie screeched in my ear. "Emmett's been worried sick about you. We didn't know who to call when you never made it home-"

"Rose! I don't have time for this!" I gritted through my teeth. "Something did happen last night, but I'm fine. I'm sorry I couldn't get word to the two of you any sooner. I just need you to tell Emmett to cover my shift at the bar tonight. I'll explain everything else later."

"Dammit, Edward, I'm not your fucking receptionist-"

"Rosalie, I swear to all that is holy…" I grumbled, squeezing my eyes shut and pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Fine, Edward! Anything else, _sir_?"

"Yeah, actually, there is. I spoke to Marcus today." Rosalie went completely silent on the other end of the phone. For some reason she had a healthy fear of the old man. "We may be getting a new tenant tomorrow."

"Oh…okay," Rosalie whispered. I could tell she was already contemplating the type of person that may be arriving and how we would handle the situation. "Marcus said this person was okay?" The fear in her voice reminded me that not all of our tenants had been…kind.

"He's meeting with the girl today. If he says she's approved, then she'll move into the room next to mine." Bella would need a lot of help getting around for the next several weeks, so I wanted her as close as possible.

"She? It's a girl this time?" Rosalie asked, her interest piqued.

"Yeah, her name's Bella," I sighed wistfully. "Listen, Rosalie…I really need to go. So please just have Emmett work my shift and I'll explain everything else tomorrow."

"Alright, Edward…just be safe," Rosalie whispered before hanging up.

I rubbed my eyes and stared at Carlisle's couch a little too longingly to be appropriate. I slowly stood and made my way out of Carlisle's office, heading back to Bella's room. I could just sleep in the recliner until she woke up. Besides, I needed a little cat nap if I was going to be refreshed enough to meet with Marcus at noon. Plus I really did need to see Esme.

This day was shaping up to be a real bitch.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yeah, I know…I just created more questions! Okay, so a warning…there is drug use discussed in this chapter. If it's not your cup of tea, I understand. Thank you all for reading and reviewing!**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

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><p>EPOV<p>

_"__Damn, this shit is potent." My head lolled to the side as the lightening raced through my veins. I hunched forward and coughed with the tickle at the back of my throat. Pulling my hand away from my face, I chuckled at the blood smears on my fingers. _

_That fucker Paul laughed in my face. "Fuck, Ed, you're a goddamned mess!"_

_"__Fuck you, asshole…just leave my stash and let me enjoy my high," I spat. "You're money's on the fucking dresser."_

_Paul pushed away from the wall and strode over to the dresser, pocketing the large wad of bills. He tossed me a couple of tissues and chuckled at my inane attempts to get up off the floor. "You know, if you think the rush from this coke is good…__I've __got something even better."_

_"__Maybe next time, dickhead," I muttered. "Now get the fuck out. I need to get laid and my pussy buffet is on its way over." _

_Paul snickered in response and made his way back over to my window. "Suit yourself, rich boy. When you're ready for the good stuff…let me know," he taunted before climbing out of my bedroom window and back down the trellis to the ground below. _

_I changed into a clean shirt and reached over to the table to retrieve the baggie of fine white powder. Just as my fingers gripped the plastic, my bedroom door burst open._

_"__Edward? Son?"_

I shot straight up in the recliner, my t-shirt drenched with sweat, breathing heavily while clawing at my chest. I hated those fucking dreams. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I glanced over at Bella, still sleeping soundly buried under her blanket. Her breakfast tray sat cold and untouched next to the bed which meant it had to be well past mid-morning.

A soft knock rapped against the door.

"Come in," I responded quietly, trying not to wake Bella. I expected a nurse or maybe Carlisle, but was completely unprepared when Esme stepped through the door. She shuffled inside, looking as professional as ever and clutching a large canvas bag in one hand.

"Hi, Edward," she greeted sheepishly, her eyes downcast. Tension rolled off of her in waves as the air between us thickened. "Carlisle said that you wouldn't be opposed to seeing me."

"Hello, Esme," I whispered as I rose from my chair and cautiously made my way over to my father's only sister. Carefully wrapping her tiny frame up in my arms, I hugged her gently before stepping away. "It's good to see you."

Tears filled her eyes as she nodded jerkily. "You too," she whimpered. "A year's a long time. You look good, though." She held out the bag toward me and looked over at Bella. "Carlisle told me about your friend and the fact that she came here with nothing. I thought maybe she could use these for when she's released."

I quickly peeked inside the bag to find what appeared to be a few small t-shirts, some black stretchy pants, socks, and a pair of slippers. "Thanks, Esme," I mumbled snapping the bag closed again and setting it next to Bella's bed. "I'm sure Bella will appreciate it very much."

Her face broke out in a beautiful smile. A smile I had missed seeing; one she seemed to reserve just for me.

"I was telling Carlisle the truth when I said I wasn't angry with you, Esme," I sighed. "You weren't the one trying to force my hand."

"No, I know how much it took for you to get clean; the demons that you had to face," she whispered, wiping a stray tear from under her eye. "I always thought you were a strong man capable of making your own decisions in regards to your life. I'm sorry Carlisle couldn't see that."

I simply nodded slowly, the lump in my throat preventing the words from spewing forth. Slight movement from the bed caught my attention as Bella readjusted her position, crying out in pain as she shifted her weight. Her eyes fluttered open, searching around the room until they landed on mine.

"You stayed?" she whispered, her raspy voice carried a measure of relief.

Making my way to her bedside, I readjusted her blankets slightly, tucking them under her chin. "Yeah, I'm here Bella. I told you I would help you and I meant it."

She whimpered again, biting her lip until her teeth made little white indentations in the pink flesh.

"Are you in pain?" I asked while reaching for the call button.

She nodded imperceptibly. Her gaze shifted to Esme and her brows furrowed slightly. A blush crept across her face and she burrowed deeper into the covers.

Taking note of Bella's anxious façade, Esme cautiously approached the poor girl. "Hello dear," she greeted in that soothing mother tone that warmed my heart. "My name is Esme and I'm Edward's aunt. Your name is Bella, yes?"

Bella squeaked out a quiet response and looked back at me for reassurance. Before I could utter a word, the door swung open and a young dark haired nurse strode into the room pushing a rolling cart.

"Hi Bella, my name's Angie and I'll be your nurse until you're released this afternoon. Okay?" She quickly moved around the bed, checking first Bella's head followed by her wrist and ankle. She then proceeded to take her pulse and blood pressure. "Are you in pain?"

Bella gave no response and slumped further into her blanket as if she were trying to disappear completely.

"Yes, she is," I answered for her. "I'm sorry, but she's very shy and nervous around strangers."

"I understand completely," Angie said nodding to herself. She turned and retrieved a small plastic cup with two white pills, handing them to Bella. I grabbed the styrofoam cup sitting on the tray next to her bed and quickly poured some water from the fresh pitcher, passing it to her so she could take her painkillers.

Collecting the now empty plastic cup from Bella, Angie made some notes on her laptop before turning back with a beaming smile. "You're all set, Bella. Those pills should help with the pain. If you need anything just buzz me, okay?" She turned to leave, dragging her rolling cart behind her.

"Thank you, Angie," Esme smiled.

"No problem. It was nice to see you Mrs. Cullen. Take care Bella!" Angie threw back with an enthusiastic wave. Some people were just perpetually chipper. I was not one of them.

"Well, I'll leave you to rest, Bella." Esme smiled down at her before turning to address me. "I assume you've called Marcus already?"

I nodded, looking sheepishly at Bella's confused expression. "Yeah, he'll be here at noon. I haven't really had time to talk to Bella about it yet."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at her watch. "It's eleven thirty now, so let me get out of your way. You should discuss this with her before Marcus gets here. You know how he can be."

I pulled Esme into a tight hug and kissed her cheek. "I promise to come see you soon."

"You'd better!" She slapped my arm playfully. "I happen to know your twenty fourth birthday is coming up in a month. Don't think I've forgotten." She chuckled as I rolled my eyes dramatically.

Esme glanced back over my shoulder at Bella. "It was a pleasure to meet you, dear. I'm sure that I'll be seeing you again soon."

"Nice meeting you too," Bella whispered meekly.

Esme gave my hand one last brief squeeze before turning and leaving the room, closing the door behind her. I sighed tiredly and turned back toward Bella. Her curious eyes followed me as I crossed the room and sat back down in the recliner next to her bed.

"Bella, I need to talk to you about something," I began hesitantly. I was hoping that this conversation would go smoothly, but I never was one for optimism.

"Okay."

I took a deep breath before jumping in. "So, as I was explaining earlier this morning, you're not really in any position physically to be able to take care of yourself. The house I live in…it's sort of a halfway house, I guess you could say. Right now, it's just me and another couple living there. Anyway, there's room for you…if you want."

"That's very kind, Edward, but I have no money to pay rent," she mumbled. "Unless you're expecting some other form of payment-"

"No Bella," I stopped her. "No one expects anything from you. The guy who owns the house…he runs kind of an outreach program. He helps people get back on their feet."

"And he doesn't expect anything from me in return?"

"Absolutely not," I stated. "No one will ask _that_ of you…ever." I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. I wasn't sure what all this girl had been through, but maybe I could get her to open up to Rosalie. "The owner also owns a bar a few blocks away called Masen's. He lets us work there until we can find other employment or decide to move on. It's a way to earn money to help us get back on our feet quicker."

"Sounds too good to be true," she mumbled, picking at her blanket.

"I assure you it's not, young lady," Marcus declared from the doorway. My head whipped around at his sudden intrusion. I could almost see why Rosalie was scared of him. He seemed overbearing and authoritative in his three piece designer suit, his graying hair slicked back and styled to perfection. Put the man in pinstripes and a fedora and the motherfucker could have been a mobster from the twenties.

Bella shank even further into herself as she eyed Marcus speculatively. He gave me a courtesy glance before turning his attention back toward Bella.

"I have been informed that you may be in need of some assistance and I am in a position to offer that assistance," Marcus stated matter-of-factly. He strode confidently toward her bed, stopping just two feet shy of where she lay. "My name is Marcus Volturi. And what might your name be?"

"Bella," she replied in a trembling voice.

"Well Bella, I was contacted by Edward, here. He seems to think you would be a good fit at the halfway house. I'm a very busy man and you need your rest, so I have just a few questions for you."

"O-okay," she stuttered.

"Are you a wanted person in any state?" Marcus asked.

Bella shook her head no as her trembling increased.

"Are you a drug addict?"

She again replied in the negative. I knew these questions were necessary for all our protection, but sometimes I wished the man was capable of a bit more compassionate bedside manner.

"Do you have any friends or family you could reach out to? Anyone who may be looking for you?"

An odd look crossed her face, before she finally answered with a resounding no.

"Are you telling me the truth, Bella? I don't condone harboring fugitives or runaways," Marcus responded in a clipped tone.

"I have no one, sir. There are no loved ones looking for me," she mumbled as her eyes filled with tears.

Marcus' eyes clouded with sadness for a brief moment before charging ahead. "Bella, as I said before, I am in a position to help you, but you must also want to help yourself. Do you want to work toward getting back on your feet? Making a better life for yourself?"

"Yes," she sighed with relief.

"Then consider yourself approved, my dear girl," Marcus proclaimed jovially. "Edward here will get you all settled at the house and he has my approval for anything that you may require. I can see that you have significant injuries that will require some care," he said as he glanced at the casts on her wrist and ankle, "but we can manage that as well." He looked at me and tipped his head to the right, gesturing toward the door. "A moment, Edward?"

"Sure," I sighed, rising from the recliner to follow Marcus out into the hallway. "I'll be right back Bella," I called out behind me.

Marcus strolled down toward the bank of elevators with a pensive look on his face. "Are you sure about this one, Edward?" he challenged. "She seems…fragile. I'm not sure she was entirely forthcoming."

"I'm sure," I snarled back. "She's just a little lost right now. Once she feels safe back at the house, I'm hoping I can get Rosalie to speak with her. Maybe get her to open up a bit about what's happened to her."

Marcus stopped in front of an elevator and turned to face me, popping a piece of spearmint gum into his mouth. "She's pretty banged up. She'll need help getting around, bathing, dressing-"

"Rosalie will help…we'll manage, Marcus," I huffed.

"Yes, I suppose you will," he mumbled. "I'll expect the hospital bill from Esme."

"I'll see to it. Thank you for coming, Marcus." I shook his hand briskly, grateful for his assistance.

He smirked back at me. "It's what I do," he chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly, and pushed the down arrow on the elevator. After a few moments, the doors opened and he stepped inside. "I'll be in touch, Edward. Take care."

I watched as the elevator doors closed behind him and then turned to make my way back toward Bella's room. As I approached her door, I heard a commotion from inside. I burst into her room, suddenly terrified that the scum who had hurt her and left her to die had somehow found her again. Bella lay curled up in a ball on her bed crying quietly while my uncle stood in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes ablaze.

"What the fuck is going on here?" I thundered, my anger rising to epic proportions.

With a malicious glint in his eyes, he sneered at me. "I was just going over your friend's discharge instructions and the results of the rape kit we performed." He thrust a large thick envelope into my hand as Bella sobbed into her hands. "All of her paperwork is there and she's free to go. Esme will handle her follow-up appointments. She's also arranged for a car to take you wherever you need to go. It will be downstairs in thirty minutes."

I breathed deeply while trying to subdue my anger. "Dammit, Carlisle, you just couldn't resist, could you?" I clenched my fists over and over again before I was finally pulled away by the sound of Bella's voice.

"Edward?" she whimpered.

I quickly made my way to her bedside and knelt down next to her. "Are you okay?" I whispered. "I'm sorry if he was cruel…it's really not about you, it's about me."

"Can we go soon? I don't want to be here anymore," she cried.

Nodding, I reached over her to the nurse call button and pressed it, hoping that Angie would be quick getting here so she could help Bella get dressed. I glared over my shoulder at Carlisle. "What did you say to her?" I spat.

"That's between her and me," Carlisle taunted. "Doctor patient confidentiality and all." He turned his heated gaze toward Bella once more. "Remember what I said, Bella," he jeered as he left the room.

Before the door fully closed, Angie came rushing in with a megawatt smile on her face, pushing a wheelchair. "Alright, Bella, sounds like you're getting out of here!" She picked up the bag Esme had left and cocked her eyebrow at me with one hand on her hip. "Could you excuse us for a few moments so I can get her dressed?"

Heat bloomed across my cheeks as I stuttered, "Of c-course." I quickly made my retreat out into the hallway as Angie's giggles trailed behind me. Jesus, I was such a fuck up. My mind raced with all of the tasks that lay ahead of me at home, but I was eager to get Bella settled in nonetheless.

A few moments later, Angie opened the door and pushed a comfortably dressed Bella out into the hallway. "I believe Dr. Cullen said there was a car waiting for you downstairs," she said, deftly maneuvering the wheelchair through the thong of patients and visitors crowding the hallway. "I'll walk you down."

Our trip down to the ground floor was uneventful. I didn't even so much as catch a glimpse of Carlisle before we strolled out into the afternoon sunshine. The crisp wind felt good on my face, helping to wake me up a little. Sitting in the drop-off lane was a sleek black Mercedes with a man I recognized as Esme's regular driver when she requested a car.

"Mr. Cullen," the driver nodded and opened the back door for me to help Bella inside. After getting her properly situated, Bella and Angie said their goodbyes while I rattled off my address to the driver and we were soon on our way.

"How long before we get to the house?" Bella whispered in a hushed voice so the driver wouldn't hear.

"About fifteen minutes," I replied. Her face was pinched with anxiety as she fidgeted nervously in her seat. I reached over to take her hand, but she yanked it away from me before I could grasp her fingers.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I shouldn't have done that-"

"No, I'm sorry Edward," she sighed. "It's not you…I'm just broken." She looked away from me and out the window wistfully.

"We're all broken in some way or another, Bella." I watched as a lone tear made its way down her cheek. "You can trust me, you know. I won't hurt you."

Her deafening silence was answer enough. I really had my work cut out for me with this one. A short time later, we pulled up in front of the house. It was an old warehouse that had been completely gutted and refurbished with four bedrooms and four and a half bathrooms. It wasn't extravagant by any means, but it was large enough that we didn't trip over one another. A freight elevator, took us up to the first floor where I deposited Bella in the kitchen while I ran up to make sure the room next to mine was presentable. As I descended the stairs to retrieve Bella, I heard a booming voice coming from the first floor.

"Who the fuck are you and what the hell do you think you're doing here?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to read and review. I appreciate it so much! The characters in this story have faults and won't always act rationally. So, feel free to yell at them. I often do…**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

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><p>EPOV<p>

I raced down the last few steps and turned left into the kitchen, coming face to face with a livid Emmett. His hands were balled into fists as he ran smack into me, headed for the phone in the living room.

"Emmett, what the fuck-"

"Ed, man, you scared the shit out of me," he gasped, clutching his chest with one hand and my shoulder with the other. "Dude, there's some chick here. I don't know how the fuck she got in here, because she looks all jacked up, but I'm going to call the cops regardless."

"Ah fuck!" I spat while peering over Emmett's huge shoulder to the table where I had left Bella, but she was no longer there. "Bella!" I shouted, tearing through the kitchen. Where the fuck was she? Did she leave? No…she couldn't have gone far with that ankle.

My head whipped around as a small whimper caught my attention. "Bella?" I tiptoed around the kitchen listening for some indication of where she could be hiding. I finally zeroed in on the small alcove next to the refrigerator. "Bella?" I whispered again, bending down to look under the counter. She was curled into a ball, wedged way in the back. Jesus, I couldn't even imagine the amount of pain she had to be in, tucked into that tiny space given the extent of her injuries.

"Sweetheart…you're okay," I whispered, reaching into the cramped space and grasping her hand in mine. Her soft mewls grew louder as I attempted to tug her out from under the counter, but her small form refused to nudge. "Bella, I swear no one is going to hurt you."

I finally just dropped to my hands and knees so that I was eye level with her. A fine sheen of sweat covered her forehead and her whole body trembled. Fuck, I had really botched this up. Leaning in, I firmly grasped both her elbows and pulled her toward me. She resisted forcefully, but I was finally able to free her from her confinement.

Her hazel eyes glared at me, hurt and betrayal burning through them. "You promised," she hissed as her eyes glazed over. "But you're just like James." Her face drained of all color and her head lolled to the side a bit.

"Bella?" I asked, alarmed by her sudden listlessness.

"You lied," she whispered, before slumping unconscious into my arms.

"Goddammit!" I shouted, shifting her in my arms so I could climb up off the floor. I carried her swiftly out of the kitchen where Emmett immediately jumped to my side.

"Edward? What the hell, man?" he asked, trailing behind me as I carried Bella up the stairs and into her room. As soon as I had her lying in her bed, I turned on Emmett.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" I snarled, grabbing his elbow and dragging him back out into the hallway. "I told Rosalie we were getting a new tenant today!"

"Hey, back the fuck up man," Emmett countered bitterly. "I haven't seen Rose all fucking day. She's not here and all I found when I woke up was a note about covering your shift at the bar tonight."

My hands balled into fists as my mind raged. I knew Rosalie could be a catty bitch at times, but she had been a new tenant here once upon a time, too. We looked out for the newbies…even when they didn't deserve it. I was the first to admit that I had made a few bad judgment calls, but I never said I was fucking perfect.

I understood why Rose might be hesitant about a new tenant. The last guy we had turned out to be a real bastard. I had first noticed Royce hanging around outside of the bar. Emmett caught him digging through the dumpster one night, so we brought him in and gave him something to eat. He was a young guy in his mid-twenties that laid one hell of a sob story on us. He was damn convincing. A few weeks after he moved in, his personality changed. He became belligerent and confrontational. Strangers started showing up at the house at all hours of the day and night. The final straw was when he attacked Rose.

That assault was a huge setback for her as it wasn't the first incursion she had survived in her short life. So she had every right to be a little reluctant about bringing in someone new, but I thought for sure things would be better considering Bella was of the female persuasion. Damn it, I had been really counting on Rose to help me with Bella during her recovery.

I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, in through my nose and out through my mouth, counting backward in my head from ten down to zero; a little trick I picked up during my second stint at rehab to help subdue the pulsing anger that raged through my veins.

"Fuck," I muttered, rubbing my hands briskly over my face, completely torn as to how to proceed. "Emmett, if you see Rose, you send her straight to me, understand?"

"Sure, sure...but, what's up with this chick?" he asked in hushed tones as he peeked his head around the doorjamb and into her room.

I sighed and looked over my shoulder at Bella's still form. "She needs some help, Emmett...just like we all do. I found her last night on my way home. That's all I'm saying for now." Truthfully, I didn't _know_ much more than that.

"Cool, I can respect that. She talked to Marcus, yeah?"

I nodded and ducked back into Bella's room as a sudden thought occurred to me, grabbing the folder full of paperwork that Carlisle sent home with her. I slid the contents out onto the dresser and rifled through the stack, finally finding the two scripts Carlisle had signed; one a painkiller and another an anti-inflammatory steroid.

"Em, I need a huge favor," I mumbled as I turned back to face Emmett, holding the scripts out toward him. "I know you have to be at the bar in a few hours, but can you run these to the pharmacy around the corner and get them filled?" I was such a fucking douche…I should have gotten them filled before we got back to the house.

"Yeah, sure." He took the small pieces of paper from my hand and looked over my shoulder at Bella. "It's the least I can do since I'm the one that scared the shit out of her." His face fell a little as he spoke. Emmett looked the part of the typical meat head tough guy, but inside he was a teddy bear. Well, until someone raised a hand toward a woman in anger. That Emmett…hmm…he was downright fucking lethal.

"Em, you didn't know and we have that rule about unannounced visitors for a reason." I ran my hand through my hair roughly and sighed wearily, suddenly craving a cigarette. "I just wish Rose had passed on my message."

"Maybe she had her reasons, bro-"

Our hushed conversation was cut short by a muffled grunt followed by a low moan as Bella began to stir. Emmett pocketed the scripts and pulled out his wallet, checking to make sure he had his driver's license since he was picking up narcotics. "I'll put it on the account," he mumbled before making his exit.

I swiftly moved to Bella's bedside, hoping that she would listen to reason and not hate me on sight. Although she wasn't fully coherent yet, her breathing became shallow and she groaned while unconsciously trying to shift her weight to alleviate the pain.

After a few moments, her hazel eyes blinked up at me, swirls of green and gold and brown forming a kaleidoscope of breathtaking color. I was unable to look away as her those eyes brimmed with tears and her lip quivered. "It hurts," she whimpered.

"I know, Bella," I whispered soothingly and dropped to my knees so that we could be face to face. "Try not to move so much. Emmett will be back in about ten minutes with your painkillers."

She nodded imperceptibly and whimpered quietly. I moved closer to her bed, aching to reach out and touch her hand or brush her hair…really anything that might bring her some measure of comfort, but I was afraid she would jerk away like she did in the car. It was glaringly obvious she didn't trust anyone…including me, so I would have to tread very carefully.

"Bella, I'm so sorry about Emmett earlier," I pleaded, hoping that she would see the truth in my eyes. "He lives here as well, but I honestly thought he was still asleep. I'm sorry he scared you and I promise no one means you any harm here."

Her brows furrowed as she contemplated my words, seemingly at war with herself over what to believe.

"I understand it will take some time for you to trust me, all of us, but I swear no one will hurt you." A slamming door and clomping footsteps on the stairs alerted me to Emmett's return. He appeared in Bella's doorway, breathing heavily as if he had run the entire way, holding a white paper bag and a glass of water.

Approaching the bed slowly, he wordlessly handed the items to me and slowly shuffled backward until he reached a safe distance from Bella, her eyes watching his every step warily.

"Bella?" Emmett whispered softly with his head hung in shame. "We kind of got off on the wrong foot down there, but I'd like to start over. My name's Emmett…Emmett McCarty and I'm an asshole. Will you forgive my idiotic behavior downstairs and let's be buds?"

Emmett's deep dimples and goofy smile always managed to charm the ladies out of their ire and Bella seemed to be no different. A small giggle escaped her mouth before she winced in pain, prompting me to empty the paper sack into my hand. I palmed a pill from each medicine bottle and then asked Bella if she could sit up a bit.

Emmett moved around to the other side of her bed and propped some pillows up behind her as she carefully took the pills and cup from my hands. Tossing the medicine back quickly with a large gulp of water, she settled back against the pillows, breathing steadily while waiting for the medicine to take effect.

"So will you forgive me, Bella? I'll paint your toe nails and make you Philly cheesesteak sandwiches." Emmett pleaded with a silly smirk on his face.

"Well, that depends Emmett," she mumbled causing his face to crumble just a bit. "What color nail polish do you have?" Emmett's face lit up like a Christmas tree at her easy acceptance, his smile almost blinding.

"Any color you want, Belly Boo," he grinned as Bella's eyelids began to droop. I had to admit, I was a little jealous at how easily she seemed to accept Emmett while I still felt like an outsider, but hopefully she'd come around.

Bella's eyelids grew heavier and I knew at any moment she would drift off to sleep. "Bella?" I asked, hoping she was still coherent enough to answer.

"Hmm?"

"I know you're really sleepy and you definitely need your rest, but can we talk when you wake up?" I was really hoping to find out a little more about what happened to her.

"Shuure," she slurred, her head lolling to the side as she succumbed to the drugs. I covered her with a blanket, my fingers brushing the soft skin of her neck as my hand lingered a little longer than necessary. Emmett eyed me suspiciously and opened his mouth to voice his concerns, but then snapped it closed and just shook his head.

Just as I was about to assuage his worries, my train of thought was interrupted by the slamming of the front door and a voice wafting up the stairs. "I'm home!" Rose shouted. My head whipped around at the sound, eyes blazing and jaw tensing. Emmett grabbed my forearm as I darted toward the door.

"Ed, man, give her a chance to explain-"

"Fuck that, Emmett. I told her about the new tenant and she chose to make this more difficult than it had to be," I snarled. Yanking my arm from his grasp, I stormed out of the room and stomped down the stairs. Rosalie looked up expecting to see Emmett, surprise coloring her face as her eyes met mine and she sputtered out a greeting.

"E-Edward…w-what are you d-doing home?" Her hands gripped a canvas bag in front of her, wringing the material relentlessly. She cringed back in anticipation at my quick approach, the intrinsic fear of an angry advancing man ingrained into her very being.

Each step toward her was another nail in the coffin. The counting in my head didn't seem to be working this time; only serving to ramp up my anger instead of quieting it. This could potentially spiral out of control fast, but honestly…I couldn't find it in me to care at the moment.

"What the fuck, Rosalie! You couldn't pass on a goddamned message? Do you know the shit storm you caused?" I hissed, but was stopped short by a set of arms wrapping my torso into a vice grip and pulling me backward. I struggled within his grasp, but was unable to dislodge the behemoth.

"Ed," Emmett said, voice stern, "go take a shower and cool off, man. You're too hot about this right now." He turned me away from Rosalie and released me from his grip, pushing me toward the stairs. "I still have an hour before I have to be at the bar so let me talk to Rose."

"Fine," I spat as I glared over my shoulder at Rosalie. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at the floor, ashamed and still fidgeting with the bag in her hands. "But we _will_ discuss this tonight."

I forced my feet to carry me up the stairs and away from the thwarted argument as I attempted again to rein in my fury, but every time I closed my eyes to try and calm myself, I only saw Bella's terrified face, her bruised and broken body shoved into that small alcove next to the fridge. Maybe I just needed some fucking sleep.

The cold tiles of the bathroom floor sent an involuntary shiver up my spine as I started the shower and quickly stripped off my filthy clothes, leaving them wherever they landed. A quick sniff to my armpit confirmed that I was in dire need of a good wash. Jesus, no wonder Bella never wanted me near her…I stank to high heaven.

Slipping under the warm spray, I quickly lathered my body and hair before looking over at the small shelf in the corner where Rosalie's conditioner sat innocently. I warred with myself for a moment before deciding that I would sleep better if I just rubbed one out real quick.

I squirted a small drop of conditioner into the palm of my hand and reached down to grasp my semi-erect cock, cringing at the fact that it would smell like fucking cherry blossoms after this. But, hey…since no one had been near the fucker except for me, who the fuck cared?

With my head bowed down under the spray, I stroked myself to a full on erection, my mind conjuring images of faceless brunettes. Mentally flipping through my spank bank material, I finally settled on an image of a tiny dark haired angel kneeling at my feet, her eyes staring at my fat cock with wonder. Leaning forward she took the engorged head into her mouth, suckling lightly. I reached down and wrapped my hands in her long wet tresses and thrust roughly into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat as she gagged around me. I fucked her little mouth hard and fast, her moans enticing me to go harder and faster.

"Fuck that feels good," I muttered to no one as the imaginary brunette at my feet hollowed out her cheeks and sucked me furiously. I pumped harder until finally my orgasm rushed through me, black dots appearing in front of my eyes as I braced myself against the shower wall. My legs felt like jelly and my right bicep still burned from exertion so I quickly turned off the rapidly cooling spray and reached for my towel, only to come up empty handed.

"Motherfucker," I mumbled under my breath and stepped out of the shower, dripping a trail of water droplets all over the floor. I slowly opened the door leading out to the hallway and looked down toward my room all the way at the end. Holding my junk in one hand and covering my naked ass with the other, I tiptoed quickly toward my room, passing Bella's and Emmett's closed bedroom doors on the way.

"Oh, holy Mary mother of Jesus," Emmett's voice sounded from behind me. Startled, I whipped around to see him stepping from his room with a disturbed, but equally amused, look on his face. "Why the fuck are you dancing naked in the hallway?"

"Fuck you, Emmett," I retorted, taking my hand off my dick to give him the middle finger salute.

"Oh, Jesus, I so did not need to see little Eddie." He quickly covered his eyes and turned away from me. "So, let me guess…no towels?"

"Yeah, no towels," I chuckled. "And there's nothing little about my dick, asshole." I sauntered the rest of the way into my room and shut the door behind me. Grabbing a used towel from off the floor, I quickly dried myself the rest of the way before donning a pair of boxers and falling into my unmade bed. I just needed a few hours of sleep and then I could deal with Rosalie's clusterfuck.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, favs, and follows! I appreciate it so much! I have to issue a warning with this chapter. There is explicit drug use and non-consensual sex. If these situations are bothersome, please skip the italicized paragraphs.**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

* * *

><p>EPOV<p>

_"__Hey man, how was rehab?" Paul taunted from his disgusting green couch while untangling himself from the naked blonde sprawled across his lap._

_"__Fucking pointless," I huffed, rolling my eyes and plopping down into a wooden chair sitting next to his makeshift drug bar. It was the cleanest piece of furniture in this whole fucking house and the only place I would dare to sit without wearing a condom. Looking over at his disease ridden couch, I watched amused as Paul's chick slurred something indistinguishable before standing up, only to get tripped up by her pink platform stilettos and the black thong around her ankles, eventually falling ass up onto the floor._

_Cackling at the blonde's predicament, Paul sat in the chair next to me and reached over to the coffee table, spreading out his various baggies and needles. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag, the red cherry glowing brightly, and blew the smoke out through his nose while eyeing me curiously._

_"__So…does Daddy Carlisle know where you are, rich boy?" he asked mockingly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees._

_"__Fuck off, Paul. Carlisle's not my father. Just give me the coke," I huffed, my patience wearing thin as I tossed the roll of bills onto the table. I had been in that godforsaken rehab clinic for three long months and had endured another three weeks of lockdown once I was released. Carlisle drove me everywhere and the bastard even put a tracker on my cell phone. Tonight was the first night I was allowed out of the house alone. Technically, I was at an NA meeting…well, my phone was anyway along with some homeless guy named Jerry who was eager to make a quick fifty bucks._

_"__Easy, man," he chuckled. "I think you're already a little too ramped up for coke. I think it's high time you got off that fancy shit anyway. Coke's for cappuccino drinking pussy motherfuckers. It's time you played with the big boys. Be right back." With a sinister grin, he jumped up from his chair and hauled ass to the kitchen._

_My knees bounced anxiously as I waited for Paul to return. I was so fucking wound up that a slamming door from down the hall made me nearly jump out of my own fucking skin. A sandy haired greasy fucker sauntered into the living room, dragging behind him a doped up red head clad only in her lace underwear and high heels. Upon seeing me, he smirked and pushed the frizzy haired chick into the wall, trapping her with his body while he groped her everywhere. She certainly __didn't __seem to mind._

_"__Fuck, Jimmy…that feels good," she moaned while I watched._

_"__Jesus, James, take that shit back to the bedroom," Paul barked, returning from the kitchen with a hypodermic needle in one hand and a blue rubber tourniquet in the other._

_"__We just came from there, asshole. I need a fucking break," he slurred before looking back at me. "The name's James. Who the fuck are you?"_

_"__None of your damn business," I retorted, turning my head back to Paul as he situated himself in front of me._

_"__Take off your jacket," Paul commanded, to which I complied immediately. He deftly knotted the tourniquet around my right arm just above the elbow and tapped around until he found a good vein. Satisfied with his mark, he looked back up at me and grinned. "Ready to go for a ride?" he snickered and slid the needle under my skin, depressing the plunger and untying the blue band at the same time…and I simply floated away._

_It __wasn't __until many hours later that I woke up naked in an unfamiliar bed with frizzy red hair spilling over my thighs and a hot mouth surrounding my flaccid cock. It took me a moment to realize that it was the red head from earlier that was unsuccessfully trying to suck me off._

_"__She's a good little cocksucker, yeah?" James chuckled from somewhere on my right. As he traipsed over to the foot of the bed, I __couldn't __help but notice his nudity. What the fuck had I gotten myself into?_

_"__Scoot up, Vicki," he sneered, slapping her naked butt cheek. Without missing a beat, the red head pulled her knees up under her and stuck her ass in the air. She continued to suckle my limp dick and fondle my balls as James grabbed ahold of her hips and thrust into her. She moaned around me as he pounded into her. I wanted so badly to get the fuck out of here, but as soon as I tried to move I realized that I was tied to this fucking bed._

I fought my restraints, kicking my legs viciously until I toppled out of bed and onto the hard floor, cracking my head on the nightstand on my way down.

"Fuck!" I hissed as I rubbed my bruised noggin and glanced down at the blue sheets wrapped around my legs. Scrubbing my face vigorously, I looked up at the alarm clock on the nightstand, its big red numbers displaying a quarter after nine. I gazed around my room, trying to get my bearings as the moonlight streaming through my window illuminated the small space. Two years of therapy and those fucked up memories still haunted my dreams.

My stomach growled loudly in protest and I realized it had been over five hours since I had given Bella her painkiller. Neither one of us had eaten dinner, so I untangled my feet and climbed off the cold floor. Pulling my last clean pair of jeans out of my dresser, I slid them on and went in hunt of a t-shirt. Finding no clean ones to speak of, I made my way over to the hamper hidden under the overflowing pile of dirty laundry and finally settled on an old crumpled band tee that was the least smelly out of the bunch. I really needed to do some fucking laundry.

I quietly tiptoed out of my room and made my way down to Bella's door, pressing my ear against the wood and knocking softly. I listened for a moment, straining to hear any sort of acknowledgement, but was met with complete silence. Gripping the knob, I turned it slowly and inched the door open, trying my damnedest to avoid that fucking squeak.

I took a quick peek inside and spied Bella still passed out in bed, her breathing even and her face relaxed. It appeared she hadn't moved since falling asleep several hours ago. I gently closed the door with a soft click and crept the rest of the way down the hallway toward the stairs.

Just as I was about to descend to the first floor to scrounge for dinner, I chanced a glance over my shoulder at Rosalie and Emmett's closed bedroom door. I would have to deal with that situation sooner rather than later.

I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen, stopping in my tracks at the sight before me. Rosalie was sitting at the kitchen table, softly crying with her head in her hands. Clearing my throat to gain her attention, I strode into the kitchen and pulled out a chair across from her, sitting silently while I waited for her to her sniffles to quiet.

As soon as she had regained her composure, I jumped right into the deep end. "Rosalie, what the hell happened today? You didn't tell Emmett we were getting a new tenant? Do you have any idea how badly he scared her?"

"I'm sorry, Edward," she whispered while wiping away her tears and running mascara with the sleeve of her sweater. "When you told me about the new tenant, I was really nervous until you said that it was a girl this time. Then I got really excited at the prospect of having a friend…someone to talk to, you know?"

"So what changed?"

She fidgeted nervously, twisting her fingers together on top of the table. "I saw myself in the mirror as I was getting dressed," she replied in a quiet whisper.

"Oh, for the love of…" I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration, my anger quickly spiraling out of control. "You're shitting me with this, right? Tell me you didn't do this because of your fucking vanity!" My voice was slowly increasing in volume as I considered the ridiculousness of her excuse.

"Fucking look at me, Edward!" she shouted, turning her head to the left to display the jagged scar that ran from the corner of her left eye, all the way down her face and chin before disappearing into the turtleneck of her sweater. I knew for a fact that her scar traveled much lower and joined with many others on her shoulders and breasts, not to mention the ones on her stomach and thighs. To add insult to injury, her first assault had been so brutal that she was left unable to bare children.

"I see you, Rosalie," I spat. "But what you _don't_ see is that you're more than your fucking scars. That night Emmett and I found you? On your knees in the filthy alley behind the bar with some stranger's dick in your mouth? I saw you then…the real you. I held your fucking hand during your doctor's appointments, went with you to your NA meetings when you couldn't go alone, and gave you my shoulder to cry on when the depression got so bad you wanted to kill yourself. So, yeah Rose, I see you." Rosalie was beautiful inside and out; a tall blond bombshell with legs for days and a heart of gold. Scars couldn't change that. "The Rosalie that I know? She would have _never_ pulled that stunt today!"

"She'll take him from me…" Rose whispered, crying in earnest. "She'll take both you and Emmett away from me. You're the only family I have. Why do we have to take on somebody new? They always ruin everything!"

I methodically clenched and unclenched my jaw, grinding my teeth together as I considered her reasoning. I knew the scars had really done a number on her self-esteem, but I honestly thought that all of that was behind us since she had gotten together with Emmett. That big lug worshipped the ground she fucking walked on.

"I can't be near you right now, Rosalie," I huffed, shaking my head in disbelief. With tears streaming down her face, she jumped up from her seat and rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I took a few minutes to recount our conversation, wondering how I had missed her feelings of . I knew that we had become more close-knit after tossing Royce out on his ass, but she had been so fucking strong after that attack that I truly thought she was on a solid road to recovery.

Resolved to speak to Emmett about this in the morning, I began pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator to make dinner for the four of us. I quickly whipped up a parmesan reggiano alfredo sauce and dropped a pouch of my homemade fettuccine noodles into a pot of boiling water with a pinch of salt. Five minutes later and I was dishing up three bowls of pasta.

Looking at me, no one would ever think that I could cook worth a damn, but my therapist turned me onto it a few years back. Something about having a healthy outlet or some shit. At least no one complained when I cooked.

I put Rosalie's dish in the microwave, Emmett's in the fridge, and grabbed two bottles of water for me and Bella. With our bowls and drinks precariously balanced, I slowly made my way back up the stairs to Bella's room. I pressed my ear against the door once more, but this time I was met with loud hiccups and wracking sobs.

"Bella? You okay, sweetheart?" I asked, receiving no response in return. There was no way I was going to be able to open that door and keep ahold of all the food, so I quickly set everything on the floor and knocked on the door. "Bella?" Her continued sobbing really had me worried, so I decided to let myself in, consequences be damned.

The sight before me tore me to shreds. Bella sat perched on her bed with a pillow pressed to her face to muffle her cries.

"Bella?" I whispered, advancing into the room at a cautious pace. To be honest crying girls scared the fuck out of me.

She lowered the pillow to her lap and glared hard at me, her tears burned away by the blazing fury in her eyes. "Why would you bring me here where I am so obviously not welcome?" she sputtered. Her breaths became shallower with each hitching sob.

"I'm not sure I understand, Bella-"

"I heard you down there, Edward. Your girlfriend certainly doesn't want me here although her fears are completely misplaced," she huffed crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I'm not here to steal anyone's boyfriend or family or...whatever the fuck this is!" She gestured around the room wildly, before turning her glare back on me. "I just want to get out of this cast and get the fuck out of here. I'm a big girl...I can take a hint."

"Bella, you've got it all wrong," I sighed, running my hand through my hair. I had forgotten how much sound carried in this building. It was made of mostly concrete and metal, so echoes reverberated everywhere. "Will you let me explain?"

"Can I stop you?" she retorted.

"Not really," I mumbled, intent on clarifying the situation. I would never hold anyone here against their will, but I couldn't in good faith let Bella leave having misconstrued the situation so badly.

She leaned back against her pillows and pulled the blanket back under her chin. "Fine…I'm all ears," she proclaimed sarcastically.

I didn't dare move from my spot, even though I desperately wanted to sit on the edge of her bed and hold her hand to soothe her worries. "Let me first say that the girl you heard downstairs…Rosalie? Well, she is not now nor has she ever been my girlfriend."

Her glare softened a bit at my explanation, some of the heat from her eyes fading. "Oh," she mumbled, seeming almost embarrassed by her assumptions.

"She's actually Emmett's girlfriend," I chuckled. "You remember Emmett, right? The asshole from earlier?"

Her brow wrinkled adorably in concentration as she stared off into space. "Nail polish!" she blurted loudly with a triumphant grin on her face. "I remember."

I barked out a laugh. "He scared the shit out of you when we first got home and all you associate him with is nail polish?"

She sheepishly picked at her blanket and shrugged her dainty shoulders as her cheeks blushed faintly under her bruising. "He apologized", she whispered, "and, you know…he offered the toe nail painting thing. It wasn't my idea."

"I'm actually surprised you remember that given the painkiller you took," I chuckled. "It's some pretty strong shit." Our easy moment waned as I turned the conversation back to Rosalie. "You know…what you heard downstairs? Please don't take that to heart. Rosalie's had a really rough year and, while I thought she was doing better, I was apparently wrong. All I ask is that you give her a chance to come around. We all have a story or else we wouldn't be here, you know?"

Bella kept her eyes downcast as she considered my words. "So what's _your_ story?"

"Oh, no," I chuckled, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "That's not how this works, buttercup. You're the newbie…you go first."

She suddenly shuddered and seemed to shrink into herself, gripping the blanket so tight that her knuckles turned white. "I…I don't…I can't," she whimpered.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," I reassured calmly with my hands splayed out in front of me. "I know you don't really trust me yet, but I promise I'm an okay guy and a fantastic listener. You can talk when you're ready."

She seemed to relax a bit at my declaration and even giggled when her stomach growled loudly. "Sorry…I didn't realize I was that hungry."

"Ah, food! I've got that covered!" I quickly turned and retrieved our dinner bowls and drinks from the hallway floor and made my way back over to Bella, setting her dinner down on the nightstand.

"Oh my God, that smells amazing!" she moaned and licked her lips, the sight of which sent a shudder up my spine.

"Uh, thanks…I do most of the cooking around here, so get used to it. Emmett can't cook to save his life," I snorted, thinking back to the time that he set the kitchen on fire just by boiling water. "So I guess I'll just go-"

"You don't have to," she mumbled. "There's a perfectly good chair by the window. You could scoot it over here and we could both eat…together. I mean, if you want. I just thought that if you were eating and I was eating-"

"Bella," I snickered, interrupting her adorable rambling. "I'd love to stay and eat with you." Grabbing my own bowl of pasta, I dragged the chair over to the side of Bella's bed. "So, can we maybe play a game of twenty questions? Get to know each other a little? Nothing heavy or too personal…I promise."

She seemed hesitant but eventually relented, shrugging her shoulders and nodding her head as she scarfed down her dinner. Shifting her leg a bit she winced in pain, before resuming her meal.

"Damn," I muttered, looking around for her pill bottles. "I'm sorry, Bella. I completely forgot your medicine."

"No, I'm okay for now," halting my search by placing her tiny warm hand on my forearm. My arm tingled where our skin met, but the sensation was so pleasant, I didn't have it in me to pull away. It was the first time she had willingly touched me. Fucking progress. "I feel like I've been asleep for days," she giggled. "I'd really like to stay awake for a bit. The pain's not so bad right now."

"Okay," I acquiesced, "but let me know if it gets too bad. I don't want you to hurt."

Her cheeks blushed again at my comment. "So, twenty questions?" she asked. "I say we take turns asking, but we both have to answer the question. Will that work for you?"

"Sure," I mumbled around bites of pasta. "You go first."

"Okay...favorite color?"

"Blue," I responded. It had always been my favorite color. Even now, my bedding and curtains were blue as well as the majority of my tiny wardrobe.

"That's mine too!" she giggled. "But a dark royal blue. I can't stand baby blue or turquoise...no it has to be real blue." Her eyes glazed over slightly like she was lost in thought.

"Okay, so...country you'd most like to visit?" I asked, pulling her attention back to our little game.

"Italy," she responded without hesitation. "I've never been out of the country but I've always wanted to go there."

"Italy is beautiful," I informed her. "Rich and lush and earthy. My dad took me when I was thirteen." I quickly snapped my mouth closed, realizing I had revealed too much. I didn't talk about my father...ever.

Sensing my unease, she quickly launched into another question. We played way beyond twenty and through most of the night, asking silly questions that gave little glimpses into our personalities while steering clear of our pasts. We would address those another time.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, favs, and follows! I am going to issue another warning with this chapter for talk of violence and sexual abuse, but this may be the last warning as I think all of the chapters will contain some talk of those subjects. It's just the nature of this particular story. If you are sensitive to the subject matter, please don't continue. These characters have been through some rough stuff and things are going to get decidedly worse. More warnings would just be redundant.**

**If you are sticking with me, I'm glad to have you along for the ride!**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

* * *

><p>EPOV<p>

Around two in the morning, I carried Bella downstairs so I could make us some breakfast. The living room was dark as I maneuvered around, trying to reach the light switch on the wall. After several long unsuccessful minutes and a couple of colorful profanities tossed around, my elbow finally bumped the switch and the living room was illuminated in a soft glow. Emmett would be home from work soon and he was always famished after a long night. We were all night owls given the hours we kept at the bar, so it was pretty routine for us to be making food at this time of night.

"Sorry about this, Edward," Bella whispered sheepishly. "You know…the whole having to carry me around? It can't be easy on your back."

"It's fine, Bella," I chuckled, rolling my eyes. "You're light as a feather." Hopefully God wouldn't strike me dead for that tiny white lie. While Bella herself was a little slip of a girl who probably weighed a buck twenty five soaking wet, those fucking casts she was sporting weighed a ton.

I situated her on the couch, propping her up on a big fat sofa pillow and pulling a blanket up over her. Our home used to be an old warehouse but had been completely remodeled for residents, so while the walls were insulated, it still got damn drafty during the winter. Bella snuggled down into the sofa and watched me curiously as I headed to the kitchen to make breakfast.

"Omelet's okay?" I threw back over my shoulder as I grabbed a handtowel from the drawer and started pulling ingredients from the refrigerator.

"Do we have cheese?" she asked optimistically.

I poked my head around the refrigerator door and gave her a dubious look. "Do we have cheese," I scoffed. "Can an omelet even be made without cheese?"

Her giggles were music to my ears as I quickly whipped eggs, grated cheese, and diced vegetables. I then melted butter in a pan and tossed in all of the ingredients for the first dish, humming quietly to myself. I was so engrossed in cooking that I almost missed the quiet footsteps on the stairs. I set the pan aside and turned off the burner before darting into the living room. The last thing I wanted was for Rosalie to start spouting bullshit and upset Bella all over again.

Taking a protective stance directly beside the couch, I watched as Rosalie approached Bella with her hands clasped in front of her and her head bowed, very much resembling a choir girl in a church processional. With a clear view of Bella's face, I waited for the inevitable flinch that everyone involuntarily exhibits when seeing Rosalie's scar for the first time, but as Rosalie lifted her head, Bella's peaceful and curious expression never wavered. That act alone spoke volumes of Bella's character.

"Hi", Rosalie whispered. "You're the new tenant, right? I'm Rosalie." She stuck her hand out in front of her in greeting.

Bella eyed the offered hand curiously before grasping it in her own and giving it a firm shake. "Bella," she responded in a soft tone. An awkward silence settled between them like a treacherous chasm neither was willing to cross. I watched them both closely to see who was going to crumble first. Unfortunately, our Mexican standoff was ended prematurely by Emmett stumbling through the front door, kicking it closed behind him while cradling his right arm to his chest.

"Oh fuck," I mumbled, rushing to his side as he sagged a bit. His nose was bleeding and his face was sporting some nasty scrapes and bruises. "Jesus, Emmett, what happened?"

Rosalie barreled toward the injured giant, her face pale and her eyes alight with fury. "Who did this? Huh? Who did this?" Her voice raised an octave as her anger spiraled out of control. Emmett was constantly in one scuffle or another while defending Rose's honor from handsy patrons or drunken assholes lacking a verbal filter, but this didn't look the typical aftermath of a run of the mill bar brawl.

"I just…I need to sit a minute," he mumbled. I helped him over to the sofa where Bella had managed to squeeze herself into the corner in order to make room for the big bear. "Hey Belly Boo," he sighed, easing carefully down onto the cushions so as not to jostle Bella too much.

"Hey Emmett," she squeaked. "Are you okay?"

"Sure sure, Belly Boo, I'll be okay."

While he was making small talk with Bella, I rushed to the kitchen with Rosalie hot on my heels to grab an ice pack and the first aid kit from above the sink.

"What the fuck was he thinking," Rosalie grumbled under her breath while wetting a towel with warm water.

"Rose, just stop," I scolded, slamming the cabinet door closed with a resounding thud. "We don't know what happened yet. Just calm the fuck down." I quickly carried my supplies back to the living room and spread them out on the small wooden coffee table in front of the couch.

"Alright, Emmett, spill it," I commanded as I went to work cleaning his scrapes.

He sucked a quick breath through his teeth as the alcohol swab made its first contact with the cracked skin covering his knuckles. "Dude, I swear…I didn't start shit. Sometime around ten, this red head chick comes up to the bar and says she's looking for Masen." My fingers twitched slightly as that name resonated with me. "The bitch was clearly on something…high, drunk, who the fuck knows. So I laugh at her; tell her she's got it wrong. Masen's is the name of the joint, not a fucking person."

I felt the heat rising up my neck and a chill slithering down my spine, making its way around before settling into the pit of my stomach. I could already tell this conversation was headed to a place I had never wanted to revisit.

"So then she proceeds to tell me that I'm the one who's got it wrong and that when I see him, tell Masen that Vicki's looking for him." He chuckled and shook his head in disbelief.

"Do you think she was just hitting on you?" Rosalie asked. "Maybe she just didn't like being rebuffed."

"No, she definitely wasn't hitting on me. I was kind of concerned about her mental faculties, so I watched her for a minute. I just didn't want any trouble, you know?" He hissed again as I began cleaning the smaller cuts on his opposite hand. "Fuck, man, that stings like a bitch. So, anyway…she sashays her nasty ass over to this douche in ripped jeans with a greasy blond ponytail, grabs his ass, and proceeds to tongue fuck his mouth. Yuck."

"So what does all this have to do with you getting the shit kicked out of you?" Rosalie asked, frustrated with the speed of Emmett's recollection.

"Oh, well I kept an eye on them all night and they finally left around one. So I closed up shop as usual and headed back here." He leaned his head back against the couch and Rosalie began cleaning the scrapes on his face while I slathered some ointment on his cracked and rapidly swelling knuckles and began wrapping his hands tightly.

"I was only the next block over from the bar when they jumped me," he continued, wincing in pain as Rosalie hit a particular sensitive spot. "That ponytail asshole had four other guys with him and that stupid red headed skank stood against the brick wall just inside the alley, rubbing all up on herself like seeing me get beat was the biggest turn on of her fucking life." His eyes met mine as his face morphed into one of somber regret. "I'm really sorry, Ed. They left me no choice. I took the beating for as long as I could until I just…lost it."

I closed my eyes at his account and pinched the bridge of my nose, suddenly aware of the monster headache taking up residence in my skull. "What did you do, Em? Are the police going to be knocking on the door in an hour?"

Emmett grinned mischievously and then winced in pain from a split in his lower lip. "No police, but I don't think they'll be frequenting the bar anymore. They may or may not be drinking their meals through straws for the foreseeable future."

"Jesus," I mumbled as I looked at my battered friend. Taking in his appearance, I couldn't help but imagine how bad the other guys looked. "I'll call Marcus when his office opens and see about getting some extra security for the bar." I quickly glanced at Bella, who seemed very frightened and nervous all of a sudden, while she picked at the fringe of the blanket.

"Bella, I promise things aren't always this exciting," I chuckled, trying to ease her anxiety. "Last week our biggest scuffle was over whose turn it was to load the dishwasher. You're safe here, I promise."

She nodded jerkily and continued to fidget. The humor slowly faded from Emmett's eyes and was replaced with a soft pleading. "I didn't mean to frighten you, Bella," he whispered apologetically. With a defeated sigh, he turned his attention back to me. "Uh…Ed, I may need to go to a meeting though. I was hoping that maybe you could go with me?"

Damn, he was really struggling if he needed to go to group. "Sure, Em. I'll check the schedule on the fridge."

Emmett blew out a long gust of air and rubbed his jaw where the bruising was turning from lavender to downright plum. Rosalie wrapped her arms around him comfortingly from behind the couch and whispered something intelligible into his ear before kissing the side of his neck.

"What kind of meeting?" Bella asked innocently.

"An Anger Management Support Group," he sighed. "I guess it's time I tell you a little bit about myself. When I told you earlier today that I'm an asshole? Well…I meant it. See, I have a wee tiny problem with my anger."

Rosalie and I both scoffed simultaneously at his gross understatement. Under the right fucking circumstances, Emmett was Mount St Helens.

"I was raised by a single mother with serious abandonment issues. She worked three jobs, but there was still never enough money. We were dirt poor and never knew where our next meal was coming from. When I was twelve, we moved into this shitty little dump and things seemed to be at their worst." Tears gathered in Emmett's eyes and he choked on his own breath for a moment before he was able to regain his composure. "Then she started bringing strange men home. They would disappear into her room for a few hours, only emerging when the liquor ran dry or my mom passed out. One guy in particular…Jack. He was a repeat customer."

Rosalie handed Emmett a cup of cold water before coming around to sit between his feet at the foot of the couch. She methodically began taking off his shoes and rubbing his arches, helping him to relax minutely. Deep down, Rosalie was a natural caregiver and Emmett was forever grateful.

"So most of these guys would slap my mom around a bit, rough her up. Jack always came to her rescue, filling her head with grandiose ideas about taking her away from that life and promising her everything her heart desired, and she fell for it. So, even though she could barely stomach being in his presence, she married the fucker."

"Did your mom stop her…uh…line of work?" Bella asked hesitantly.

"Yes, but she only traded one hell for another. That asshole, Jack could barely support himself, let alone an entire family. So, the abuse initially began because of stress, his inability to financially provide for all of us. He refused to let her work a conventional job because that would take away from her wifely obligations. He'd slap her around or shove her into a wall…that kind of thing, but she always insisted that we stay. She said we wouldn't make it on our own."

Emmett sighed and shook his head, salty tears sliding down his cheeks as he lost himself in the memories.

"I was sixteen when the shit hit the fan. At the time, I was a sophomore in high school and a pretty average kid, although I was angry a lot. Joining the wrestling team helped me channel that anger a little, but I still got into a few scuffles here and there. Jack was always pissed when he got the call to come to the school and I was usually on the receiving end of a mild beating because of it. I always expected him to threaten to make me quit the wrestling team, but he never did, nor did he or my mom ever come to see a match.

"One night, I got sick during one of the practices and the coach released me early. I changed out of my uniform and walked home, but as I neared our house I saw cars lining the street and men coming and going. I thought maybe they were having some sort of party, so I walked around to the back, not wanting to disturb anything important. When I peeked into the living room…my mom…she was tied up and…naked…and multiple men were…"

"It's okay Emmett," Bella soothed, placing her delicate hand on his forearm. "I understand what you are saying; you don't have to recount the gory details." Emmett nodded and wiped the tears from under his eyes. My heart constricted at the sight of this gentle giant so broken down.

"Well, apparently I arrived at the end of his little show because Jack announced that the whore was done and she'd had enough and that festivities would resume next week same time." Emmett's eyes clouded over and I braced myself for what was to come. I had heard Emmett's story many times, but the brutality…the utter carnage…it still took me off guard.

"I hid in my bedroom until I was sure everyone else was gone. Then, I grabbed an old baseball bat from under my bed and headed into the living room. The fucker was actually sitting there drinking a beer with my mother still tied up less than ten feet away, unconscious and naked, covered in…well, you get the picture." He wiped his eyes again as his hands began to shake. "He heard me come into the room. When he saw the bat in my hands, he laughed. He just laughed, Bella. And I completely lost it. I beat him until I couldn't recognize him anymore. I killed him…right there in our living room. Then I untied my mother, covered her with a blanket, and called an ambulance and then the cops." He looked sheepishly at Bella, quietly awaiting her judgment. Upon hearing his story, most people kept a respectable distance from him, terrified of his temper.

However, Bella was an enigma. She grabbed his hand and pulled him gently toward her, wrapping him up in her arms. "Emmett, I don't blame you one bit. If you're waiting for me to cower in fear, you'll be waiting an awfully long time." He pulled back from her and smiled a watery grin while she gazed at him compassionately. "So, the cops arrested you, I assume?"

He barked a spiteful laugh while wiping the tears from his face with the sleeve of his shirt. "Yeah, cuffed me right there in the living room and wouldn't even let me say goodbye to my mom. I got lucky, though. My public defender was awesome and my case was kept in family court because of my age. I was tried as a minor and convicted of manslaughter, so I still had to serve time in juvenile hall and a residential treatment facility for my 'bouts of uncontrollable rage'. They released me when I turned twenty one."

"How old are you now?" Bella asked, inquisitively.

"Twenty four." He glanced at me quickly for my permission to continue. He was delving dangerously close to how he and I met…not a subject I liked to frequent. I sighed quietly and nodded for him to continue. I didn't really share much of my past with anyone. Emmett knew a little because we had _acquaintances_ in common.

"When I got out, I didn't have a lot of options," he sighed. "I couldn't find work because of my record and my mom had disowned me. Apparently, Jack being dead was a real inconvenience for her." I rolled my eyes at the thought of his mother. He probably saved her life and the bitch disowned him. Go figure.

"So, I fell in with a bad crowd that needed an…_intimidating presence_…so to speak. Well, about a year ago, one of the guys I was sent to rough up pulled a gun and shot me in the leg. I was trying to get to the hospital when Edward found me. By morning I was having a sit down with good old Marcus and the rest is history."

That last part was a complete lie. I was the one that shot him.

"Seriously though, Bella, please don't be afraid of me," Emmett pleaded. "I swear I would never hurt a woman and I go to meetings to help me deal with my anger issues. I'm so sorry for our initial introduction. We have a rule about unexpected visitors and I was _unaware_ that you were coming."

Rosalie blushed bright red as she listened to the meaning behind Emmett's words. She had fucked up and she knew it. It was up to her how to make amends to Bella.

"It's alright, Emmett," Bella giggled. "You don't frighten me anymore and I've already forgiven you for your impromptu greeting. Besides…you promised to paint my toe nails-"

"Oh ho! If she gets a pedicure then so do I, muscle man!" Rosalie huffed, looking up at Emmett with a playful expression on her face.

"Fine, fine," Emmett snickered. "Our next day off we'll have a girls day!" He squealed in a high-pitch girly voice while flapping his arms and fluttering his eyelashes in mock excitement. "Edwina can do our hair-"

"Edwina needs to take a piss," I muttered, jumping up from the floor and heading up the stairs, my departure heralded by a raucous round of laughter. I was glad that everyone seemed to be getting along quite well. I had a long road ahead of me with Bella and could honestly use the support.

But before I could delve into the mysteries of Bella, I had to deal with the fuckery presently at hand. Emmett's account of what occurred at the bar tonight had my head spinning. Vicki was a common enough name, and I could have been blowing this thing way out of proportion, but I had to be sure.

Bypassing the bathroom, I headed straight into my bedroom and grabbed the disposable cell phone I kept in the nightstand. Powering it up, I dialed one of the only five numbers listed in the contacts and listened impatiently to the ringing in my ear.

"Edward, it's five in the morning. Nothing good ever comes of you calling me this early," the gravelly voice on the other end answered groggily.

"I'm sorry, Marcus, but we may have a problem."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, favs, and follows! I'm glad you are all enjoying the story. My poor characters have been through hell and back and their back stories are not pleasant…so be warned, this chapter is going to be a bit rough.**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

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><p>EPOV<p>

Four hours later I had my answers.

Everyone else ate their breakfast, cracking jokes and giggling at Emmett's silliness, but my appetite had long vanished with that one spoken name. Vicki. My peace would forever be disrupted until I knew for sure.

With full bellies, my friends stumbled off to bed and I carried Bella back up to her room. I had waited too long in giving her some pain medication and she was really feeling her injuries. The small white pills only took minutes to kick in and she was soon snoring away, peacefully tucked under her blankets.

Then my waiting began. Marcus said he would be back in touch as soon as he had some answers. So I paced my bedroom relentlessly, tossing the cell phone from one hand to the other, willing it to ring. By the time his call came, sunlight was streaming through my bedroom window. The unexpected vibration in my left hand caused my heart to stutter as my nerves were stretched to their absolute limit.

"Marcus?" I answered quickly.

"Edward," he sighed from the other end, the tenor of his voice confirming my fears.

Almost dropping the phone, I whispered, "No. Please no."

"Paul's dead, Edward." I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to stave off the onslaught of memories. "Three months ago, there was a prison break and Paul was killed while trying to escape."

"And James?" I sighed, already knowing the answer.

"He got away, son. The authorities have been looking for him, but he hasn't been in contact with anyone from your old stomping grounds and they haven't been able to locate this Victoria Barnett either. The chief of police thinks that James has left the area."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to regulate my breathing as the tell-tale signs of an impending panic attack loomed before me. "Marcus…I'll have to call you back."

"Edward, wait-"

I quickly disconnected the call and turned the phone off, tucking it back into its hiding place in the far corner of my nightstand drawer. My head was spinning and the need to vomit was overwhelming, so I sat on the foot of my bed and placed my head between my knees, trying desperately to calm down. Warm heavy tears pooled in my lashes and plopped to the floor between my bare feet as I recalled those last few encounters with James and Paul before I finally got my shit together.

_My fist pounded on the pristine red door to Paul's house. Looking around, I had to laugh. Paul's house looked like I felt; fancy and pretentious on the outside and a real shit hole on the inside. I raised my shaking hand to knock again when the door suddenly flew open to reveal a scantily clad Paul with a freshly lit cigarette hanging from his mouth._

_"__What!" Paul shouted in my face, his eyes blazing as he took in my shaking form._

_"__Paul…I need just a little something…please," I begged shamelessly._

_He eyed me speculatively, blowing smoke from his nostrils before finally opening the door wider to allow me entrance. "Goddamn, rich boy, I haven't seen you in a while. Where the fuck you been?"_

_"__Around," I muttered as I stumbled inside, rubbing my hands together swiftly and hoping that the friction would quell the shaking for just a bit. "So, can you hook me up or what?"_

_"__Sure man, how much you got?" Paul asked as he led me over to his coffee table. A solid thud sounded against the wall behind the couch, momentarily diverting Paul's attention. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and chuckled darkly. "Sorry dude. James and Vicki get a little carried away."_

_The thumping took on a more rhythmic quality, pounding in time to the headache beating its way out of my skull._

_"__So, how much you want?" Paul asked, plopping down on the filthy green couch and gathering his bags and tools while I took my usual seat across from him._

_I fidgeted a bit as I pondered how best to address my current financial quandary. "Well, here's the thing man…Carlisle cut me off. He petitioned the court or some shit and was granted conservatorship over my entire fucking life."_

_Paul raised his eyebrows and sucked in a quick breath between his teeth. "So he cut you off from your trust fund?"_

_I nodded solemnly while I eyed the drugs on the table, licking my lips in anticipation._

_"__Well…we'll have to see about that, but in the meantime all I can say is tough break kid." Paul began to meticulously put away the drugs as I watched in horror._

_"__No, no…please. I'm good for the money!" I pleaded. "You know I'm good for it Paul!" The incessant banging picked up in tempo as the panic seeped under my skin making my teeth itch and my bones ache. "Please!"_

_With an evil glint in his eye and a sinister grin, he sank back into the couch cushions and propped one ankle up on his opposite knee. "Calm down, kid…maybe we could work something out. I'll give you what you need and you can pay me back in services. How does that sound?"_

_"__Sure, sure…anything," I mumbled, my eyes drifting back down to the stash of heroin littering the coffee table as my nerves began to dance._

_Paul lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles against the wall behind his head. Immediately, the thudding ceased and I could distinctly hear the creaking of mattress springs before the bedroom door down the hall flew open._

_"__I'm busy, Paul. What do you want?" James called from the open doorway._

_Paul rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. "James, can you take your dick out of Vicki for two fucking seconds and come here please? We have some business to discuss."_

_James stomped into the room completely naked and I quickly averted my eyes, never one to eye another man's junk._

_"__I'm here asshole, now what do you want?" James huffed in annoyance._

_Paul hesitated before leaning forward on his elbows. "My buddy here's in a bit of a jam and needs to work up some credit. You got anything for him to do?"_

_My knees bounced nervously and my eyes twitched as James came to stand directly in front of me, his rigid cock bouncing mere inches from my nose._

_"__Hmmm, well if it __isn't '__None of Your Damn Business'," he chuckled. "Come to think of it, I could use another good little cocksucker. I wonder just how good your cocksucking skills are. Open your fucking mouth and let's see, shall we?"_

_My panicked eyes darted over to Paul, a bored look of indifference etched on his face, before looking up at James. His sneering grin told me that he was completely serious about my task at hand. Glancing back down to the glistening cock in front of me, I asked myself if I was really willing to do this. Was I really willing to go this far?_

_James reached forward and grasped my hair by the roots. Closing my eyes and steeling my resolve, I opened wide…_

I raced for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me as I collapsed over the toilet bowl and heaved the contents of my stomach into the clear water below. Resting my forehead against the cool porcelain, I greedily gulped air into my into my lungs as my vision blurred.

Three fucking years and a shit ton of therapy and I could still feel that fucker's cock hitting the back of my throat. I was disgusted at the levels of depravity I had sunk to…all in order to support my habit; definitely not a time in my life that I liked to revisit. James was a cruel motherfucker with a vindictive streak a mile long and Vicki was his equal in every way.

Standing up on wobbly legs, I made my way over to the sink and turned on the tap. Cold water pooled at the bottom of the basin as it swirled slowly down the drain. I quickly rinsed my mouth and then ran a washcloth under the faucet, wiping the clammy sweat from my face before taking a hard look at myself in the mirror. I positively loathed the fucker staring back at me. He would never be redeemed for the mistakes he made, the lives that he ruined… no matter how hard he tried now.

Pulling my fist back, I slammed it into my repulsive reflection as I roared in anger. The glass fractured, distorting my image further and digging small slivers into the skin covering my knuckles, the physical pain a welcome distraction from the burning regret rising up within me.

I didn't want to relive this again. Once was enough. I slumped against the door and slid down to the floor, blood pooling from the cuts on my hands. I just wanted to forget, slink away into unconsciousness for just a while and not worry about that sick fuck James barreling his way back into my life.

Muffled footsteps and quiet whispers from the hall alerted me to the fact that my pity party was about to be interrupted. Emmett's sharp rap against the door came as no surprise.

"Edward? You okay?" Emmett asked in hushed tones, his voice laced with concern. "We heard something break."

"Yeah, Em, I'm fine." The strain in my voice sounded not at all convincing and I honestly didn't expect him to be easily dissuaded. "Just knocked over a…uh…vase."

"We don't have a vase in the bathroom, Edward," Emmett huffed. "Open the fucking door."

Shaking my head at my own asinine answer, I quickly realized that Emmett was not going to let this go. Scooting forward a bit, I snatched the towel from the side of the tub and quickly wrapped up my injured hand just as Emmett cracked open the door and stuck his head inside.

"Edward! What the fuck is going on with you?" his voice rising in alarm as he tried unsuccessfully to squeeze his huge frame through the narrow gap that my position allowed. He ducked his head back out of the door, whispering to Rosalie frantically before turning back to me. "Did you fall?"

I snorted in response. An accident…sure. I _accidentally_ fell and my fist _accidentally_ collided with the mirror. Must've slipped while brushing my goddamned teeth. I climbed up off of the tile floor, my feet skating out from under me several times before I successfully made it upright.

Emmett opened the door fully and looked around at the shards of mirror scattered across the countertop. His eyes narrowed on the small puddle of blood on the floor before making their way to the stained towel wrapped around my right hand. "Ah, fuck Ed…what'd you do?"

"Don't worry about it, Em." My hands shook as the adrenaline from my near panic attack continued to pulse through my veins. I ground my teeth together, itching to throw something…break something…_destroy_ something. My head whipped around to the sound of hushed voices in the hallway.

I pushed my way passed Emmett and stepped into the corridor where a very contrite Rosalie stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest as Marcus loomed behind her with a dark expression on his face.

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!" I exclaimed, leveling Rose with a harsh glare.

She held up her hands in surrender. "Whoa, Edward, don't look at me like that. I didn't call him. I went downstairs to get the first aid kit from the kitchen and he was pounding on the door-"

Marcus pulled Rosalie behind him, shielding her with his body from my penetrating gaze. He moved toward me carefully, his eyes scrutinizing my appearance before landing on the now sopping towel wrapped around my fist. "Jesus, Edward…what happened?"

"What the fuck are you doing here, Marcus?" I retreated a step for each advance he made toward me, shaking my head back and forth as I battled with my rage and self-loathing, the acidic bile in my stomach scorching its way up my throat.

Marcus gazed at me worriedly. "I didn't like how our conversation ended, Edward. I was worried-"

"I am not a child!" I shouted as the dam repressing my mental anguish burst and my self-hatred flowed from me like molten lava, searing away the last of my restraint. I flew at Marcus, pinning him to the wall with my forearm against his neck as I pounded the plaster next to his head. "Fuck you, Marcus! And fuck James! Let him come for me!"

I was suddenly jerked backward away from Marcus and restrained in Emmett's ironclad grip. Marcus bent at the waist, trying to force air back into his lungs as I grunted and spat, flinging my limbs wildly while trying to dislodge myself from my involuntary confinement. I probably would have continued my assault on my little makeshift family had I not heard the small whimper from the bedroom door to my left.

My head whipped around at the sound and all of the fight drained from my body as I saw Bella huddled on the floor, peering through the small opening of the cracked door, her face a mask of fear and pain.

Fuck. I was a monster that destroyed everything I touched. Emmett, Rose, Bella…they deserved more than this. I would eventually ruin them as well…damage them irreparably just like everyone else I had ever loved. My head spun and my vision clouded as my mind slipped away to that fateful day in August four years ago; the day I lost the rest of my family.

_"__Thanks, man," the big burly guy chuckled as he removed his condom and tossed it into the waste basket next to the bed, slapping his girlfriend on the ass as she gave my nipple one final tug with her sharp little teeth. I offered no response and pulled the blanket up over my naked body, just waiting for the fuckers to leave so I could get my fix._

_As soon as the bedroom door clicked closed, I was up and out of bed tossing on a pair of boxers. I scurried across the hall to the bathroom to clean myself up before I went in search of my elusive high. Tossing the last wads of toilet paper into the bowl, I was just about to leave when voices in the hall caught my attention._

_"__It's been two months, James," Paul spat, his voice so low I almost __couldn't __make it out. "How close are you?"_

_"__Would you fucking relax?" James whispered. "I really thought the photos of his precious nephew with a cock in his throat would make him cough up the dough, but apparently he's washed his hands of the little fucker."_

_"__So, what do we do?" Paul asked. "I haven't gone through all this fucking trouble just to lose it all now! I mean, the boy's a good lay…so __I've __heard…but he __isn't __bringing in near enough and I want that fucking trust fund, James."_

_I quietly made my way to the closed bathroom door and pressed my ear to the wood, trying to get a better idea of exactly what they were talking about._

_"__Look man, just lay cool for a bit, yeah?" James snorted in response. "__I've __got Daddy Carlisle's bitch tied up in the basement. Poor thing's been watching video of her little nephew all day."_ _James clucked his tongue in a teasing manner. "If Daddy Carlisle __doesn't __turn over the money, then I'll kill her too. Simple."_

_Esme? Were they talking about Esme?_

"That's right, Carlisle. He's been calling her name for the last twenty minutes," Marcus hissed into his cell phone as he paced the room. "No I don't think he's dangerous, but as you are his doctor, I am required to inform you of his injuries. I shouldn't have told him over the phone. This is my fault." As he turned to begin another lap, Marcus finally glanced my way. "Carlisle, he's awake. I'll call you back," he muttered before abruptly ending the call and pocketing his phone.

I hauled my body up into a sitting position and glanced around the room, taking in my surroundings. Sometime during my little freak out, I had been moved to the couch in the living room. Emmett sat in the overstuffed chair in the corner cradling Rosalie in his lap. I had known these people for just under a year, but in all that time I had never had an episode like the one I just experienced. Surely they would have their bags packed by the end of the day. I couldn't blame them.

"Where's Bella?" I asked, rubbing my face briskly.

Marcus sighed heavily as he sat next to me on the couch. "She's in her room, Edward. I had to give her a Xanax to calm her down."

"Fuck," I hissed. "She must be terrified of me. I'll have to find her someplace else to go-"

"I don't think that's it, Edward," Marcus interrupted as he glanced over at Emmett and Rosalie before turning his gaze back on me. "You got pretty worked up in that hallway…shouting about James and Vicki. It was those names that sent her into a panic, not your outburst."

Well that was certainly something to think about.

Emmett huffed from the corner and tightened his arms around Rosalie's shaking form. "What the hell is going on, Edward?" he asked, clearly incensed with having been left out of the loop.

I opened my mouth to answer, but Marcus stopped me with a raised hand and a heated glare before turning to address Emmett. "I know you're worried, Emmett, but I swear to you that no harm will befall anyone under this roof. Now, I have a busy day ahead of me, but there are some things I need to go over with all of you before I leave." Marcus cut his eyes to me, silently pleading with me to stay rational.

"I'm going to put a private detail on the house and the bar," he announced. "However, you three will not be returning to work there until I get this cleared up."

Emmett groaned in aggravation. "Ah, Marcus, is this because of that brawl last night? I swear I didn't start that shit."

Marcus shook his head and looked at Emmett earnestly. "No, son, this isn't because of anything any of you have done. It's not a punishment. After speaking with Edward last night, I believe there may be some _unsavory_ individuals looking to stir up trouble. As I have been tasked with looking after you, I need you all to stay put until I can deal with this situation."

"How long?" Rosalie asked.

"A few days," Marcus sighed. "A week at the most."

"Okay," she mumbled, reverting back to the introverted and despondent girl I met all those months ago instead of the strong woman who had just recently begun to emerge. A definite setback. I shook my head in resignation.

Marcus rose from the couch and looked at me sympathetically. "Edward…I'm sorry about our earlier conversation. I should have come to speak with you in person." He sighed as I nodded solemnly. "Also…Esme is on her way over with Carlisle."

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath as I looked down at my injured hand still wrapped in the soiled towel. "That bad, huh?"

"It needs a few stitches," he hesitated, "and I was hoping Esme might be able to speak with Bella. I have some questions."

"Yeah, Esme may be best suited to talk to Bella as I'm sure she won't ever want to speak to me again." My eyes misted as I grieved the loss of that budding friendship. After spending the evening with her, I had come to the realization that Bella was a beautiful soul and I had hoped…well, I don't know what I was hoping for exactly. Regardless, I was positive that she was lost to me now.

Marcus eyed me skeptically, carefully observing my defeated demeanor. "I wouldn't be so quick to presume her feelings on the subject, Edward. If my hunch is right, you may need each other more than you know."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, favs, and follows! I appreciate each and every one of you that takes the time to read my little stories. Some of you are dying to know how Bella fits into all of this and what her story is, so I won't keep you waiting.**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

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><p>EPOV<p>

Twelve fucking stitches. I flexed my fingers a few times, testing their elasticity, and grimaced as pain shot through my hand like a thunderbolt. Carlisle watched me inquisitively while he wrapped my injured hand with gauze and snorted in amusement each time I winced.

"Doing that isn't going to make it feel any better, Edward," Carlisle scoffed as he packed up his medical bag. "You'll just end up ripping the stitches, so please…just don't." He tossed a bottle of pills at me and laughed when I fumbled them miserably. "That's 800mg Ibuprofen. It'll help take the edge off."

"Thanks," I mumbled, tucking the bottle into my jeans pocket. I turned my head just in time to see Esme descending the stairs, her face streaked with tears. Alarmed, I jumped up from the couch and headed straight for her.

"Esme? Is Bella alright?" My anxiety was quickly getting away from me as I contemplated every horrible scenario imaginable that could possibly make Esme appear this distraught.

"I wouldn't know, Edward," she sniffled. "She won't talk to me. She just cries. It's agonizing…heartbreaking. I can't reach her."

I hung my head in defeat. Fuck, this was so bad. Esme could usually get anyone to open up. It was just her nature.

"But she wants to speak to you," Esme whispered, cupping my cheek.

My head snapped up and our eyes met as I searched for the truth in her words. "She wants to speak with me?" Esme nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

I gulped loudly as my mind raced in circles. Squaring my shoulders, I nodded imperceptibly and headed up the stairs toward Bella's room. Stopping just outside her door, I took a deep breath and knocked softly.

"Come in," Bella's meek voice answered from inside.

I swung the door slowly open and took a few hesitant steps into the room, wholly unprepared for the sight before me. Bella sat perched in her bed with her casted ankle propped on a pillow. Her face was incredibly pale and her cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes fearful as I approached her.

"Hi," she mumbled quietly, gesturing to the chair next to her bed. I reluctantly moved to take my seat as Bella shifted around to make herself more comfortable.

"Bella," I sighed. "I can't tell you how sorry I am for what you saw this morning, for scaring you so badly. I know that I probably fucked up any chance of us being…friends. I'm just…I'm so fucking sorry."

She stared down at her hands and sniffled quietly. "I'm not upset with you, Edward," she whispered, "and you haven't ruined anything." She reached forward hesitantly and covered my large hand with her small one, her warmth bleeding into me.

I sighed in relief at her reassurances and turned my hand upward, entwining my fingers with hers. The corners of her mouth lifted in a small sweet smile and her cheeks tinged pink as I basked in this unfamiliar feeling of acceptance. I was hesitant to break our little moment, but I needed some answers.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?" she sighed as she continued to stare at our entwined fingers.

"I don't want to upset you…please understand, that's the last thing I would ever want to do." I squeezed her fingers gently and looked into her beautiful hazel eyes. "I need to ask you some questions. Marcus mentioned…something…and I need to know-"

"James and Vicki," she mumbled, releasing my hand and averting her eyes. I missed her touch immediately, a fissure cracking open within me that apparently could only be filled by this wisp of a girl.

"Yes," I responded huskily as a sickening lump took up residence in my throat. "Do you know them, Bella?"

She nodded minutely and her eyes glassed over as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "For about two months now…"

My eyes closed of their own accord and I rested my head on her bed as scene after horrific scene flashed in the inky blackness behind my lowered eyelids. My mind recalled every twisted act I was forced to endure at their hands…and then my image was replaced with Bella's, and I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to vomit. "How? Did they…did he-"

The sudden sensation of her trembling fingers running through my hair halted my rambling. I slowly raised my head until my eyes met hers.

"What happened to you, Bella?"

"It's complicated, but I'll tell you if you're willing to hear it all." She patiently waited for my reply and at my urging, she launched into her history. "My name is Isabella Swan and I'm originally from Salem, Oregon. My parents were killed in a car accident when I was eleven years old and I was placed into foster care."

I took a sharp intake of breath at her declaration, my heart aching for her loss. We were so very much alike, the two of us. "There was no other family that could take you in?"

"No," she whispered. "Both sets of grandparents had already passed and my parents didn't have any other siblings, so I was placed with an older couple, Earl and Martha Kranski. They had taken in several other foster kids, but I was the youngest being added to their brood, not to mention the only girl as well. That's where I met Jake. He was just a year older than me and we were instant friends as we were the two closest together in age."

Irrational jealousy unfurled in the pit of my belly, an alien emotion I was ill-equipped to handle. She had been close to someone…before.

"Martha passed away when I was fourteen and Earl…well, he changed. Maybe it was grief," she sighed. "I don't know, but he became a little…handsy…and persistent as hell."

My hands curled to fists and I tramped down the urge to lash out in anger. "Did he…"

"No, he never got the chance," she interjected. "Jake was always around. When I was sixteen, Jake took to sleeping outside of my bedroom door…just to be sure, you know? He followed that routine for over a year."

"Why didn't you tell anyone? Report Earl's behavior?"

"I threatened to. I told Earl I would contact social services and he said that he would tell them Jake was abusing me. It would be my word against his and they would take Jake away…lock him up. I couldn't let that happen."

"Oh, sweetheart…it doesn't work that way," I sighed.

"I'm sure it doesn't, but Jake was my brother…my protector. I couldn't let anything happen to him. So we endured until Jake turned eighteen. He refused to leave me behind so we ran away. We stayed with one of our foster brothers here in L.A. for about a year until he and Jake had a…falling out…of sorts." She snickered quietly as she became lost to the memory, her eyes alight with mirth.

"So that was about three years ago. What did you do after that?" I asked.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she began again. "Jake got a job at an auto repair shop and I worked as a waitress. We lived in the shittiest little apartment ever, but we managed to make ends meet." Her features darkened and her eyes clouded over, either in despair or anger. I couldn't tell which.

"About a year ago, Jake got sick. We went to the free clinic where they eventually referred him to another doctor. An oncologist."

Oh fuck. Her eyes brimmed with tears and her breathing became choppy.

"Stage four Acute Myelogenous Leukemia…extremely aggressive. He was in a lot of pain and the prognosis was that he would only live about another eight months, so a buddy of his from work hooked him up with some…uh…unorthodox medication."

"You mean illegal drugs, yeah?" I asked and she nodded through her sniffles.

"It wasn't the hard stuff at first, but his pain got so _bad_…he just needed more and more. I tried so hard to keep us afloat, but I couldn't let him suffer." Her shoulders were shaking so hard, I was afraid she would tremble to pieces. "Jake had surpassed the small amounts his buddy could get for him, so we were put in touch with a guy named Whit."

Holy hell…Jasper Whitlock. Emmett was going to shit a brick. I tried desperately to keep my face impassive as she struggled to regulate her breathing. Had I fallen into the Twilight Zone? Was it even possible for every fucking person in my life to be connected in one way or another? While I pondered my coincidental existence, Bella trudged ahead.

"I made shit money as a waitress and Whit's girlfriend, Maria, said I could make more as a…runner. I had to do whatever I could to ease Jake's suffering." She looked so ashamed, but I couldn't find it in me to be disappointed in this girl. Hell, my life was just a series of catastrophic fuckups, one right after another. How could I possibly judge her?

"Jake…he was _using_ more than I could earn and we were evicted from our little apartment about six months ago. Whit offered us a place to stay. He said I could work off the rent."

Yeah, I just bet he did. That was how Jasper worked. Once you owed a debt, you would never be able to earn enough to pay it back. Peter was proof of that.

"Then…then about four months ago Jake died. He…he just died." She looked up at me absolutely heartbroken. "He left me. I wasn't sure where I would go or what I would do, but I knew there was no point to staying around here any longer, so I packed up what little belongings I had and left. Whit, though…he had other ideas. He said I still owed a debt and that I would need to work it off. When I refused, he beat me unconscious.

"So I continued to be a runner for Whit, trying my damnedest to pay off Jake's debt. Then James showed up with that whore Vicki in tow," she spat. "Next thing I knew James had 'purchased' my debt."

My nightmare was coming to life right before my eyes. That fucker had bought her. I knew I was going to regret asking this question, but I had to know. "What did he make you do, sweetheart?"

Her eyes shifted again and she refused to look at me. "I was unwilling…and unruly. There was one instance where he forced me on my knees, but…I bit him. He beat me bloody that night. I ran away and managed to elude him for over a week, but that bitch Vicki found me and dragged me back kicking and screaming. Anytime he was away for a few days, his lackeys kept me locked up tight. There were others there also, in the same boat as me."

James was definitely getting braver with his conquests, branching out more into the realm of human trafficking. "He's keeping others there against their will?" I asked.

She shook her head slightly and her brows furrowed. "Not exactly. I don't know why the others do what he wants or why they stay. I met a girl there…a tiny little thing named Alice. She's a meth addict, I think. James brings people in and Alice _entertains_ them and in exchange, James provides Alice with the meth she needs. He wanted me for the same, but I refused the drugs so he had no real hold on me. Then, that night you found me, he had lost all patience. He beat me until I couldn't fight anymore and then he…took me-"

Unable to stand anymore, I grasped her hand and pulled her gently into my arms. "Shh, Bella. You don't have to say anymore. I swear I won't ever let him come near you again." I rocked her gently as she wept against my shoulder.

"Please tell me you're not falling for that bullshit, Edward," Carlisle stated condescendingly from the open doorway. I had been so wrapped up in Bella that I failed to notice his blatant eavesdropping. I should have known better. Carlisle was always one to snoop where he didn't belong.

Startled by his sudden appearance, Bella gasped and pulled away from me, shrinking back down under her covers. She trembled slightly as she gazed at my uncle while whispering something unintelligible under her breath.

"Get out, Carlisle," I spat. "This is her room…her home! You will not treat her badly here!"

"For God's sake, Edward, open your eyes!" Carlisle cried out in frustration, rushing into the room. "Do you think its coincidence that this girl, who just happened to fall in _your_ lap, has recently been in the presence of that…that…scum! Dammit, Edward, tell me you aren't that naïve! You're being set up!"

I was out of my chair and in Carlisle's face in an instant. "Shut your fucking mouth!" I shouted as I shoved him backward until his back hit the wall next to the bedroom door. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about!"

Carlisle's wide eyes darted back and forth between me and Bella, before finally settling on her quivering form, his eyes ablaze with hatred. "Why are you doing this to him? To us? Haven't we all suffered enough? How much will we have to lose before your boss is satisfied? You won't get what you're after…I won't allow it!"

In a fit of rage, I pulled my fist back and let it fly, hitting Carlisle square in the nose and knocking him to the floor, the solid sound of crunching bone reverberating through the room. "Don't you dare speak to her like you know her…you know nothing! Get the fuck out!"

Our scene had drawn the attention of everyone in the house. Emmett barreled into the room and dragged me away from Carlisle before I could do any further damage while Esme knelt by her husband's side, holding a handkerchief to his gushing nose.

Carlisle slowly rose from the floor and leveled me with a heated glare. Pointing a bloody finger in my direction, he sneered menacingly. "I'll take you back to court you little shit. I won't let you squander-"

"Carlisle!" Marcus snapped, stepping into the middle of our war zone. "You forget yourself, my friend. As Edward's attorney, I can tell you that after the scene I've witnessed today, you won't have a leg to stand on. I don't want to…but I will get a restraining order if need be."

"Fuck you, Marcus," Carlisle hissed through bloody lips. "You called me, remember? I can see now where your loyalty lies."

"My _loyalty_ has always been and will always be to Edward," Marcus concluded as he turned away from Carlisle and came to stand directly in front of me. "Edward, if you promise to behave, Emmett will let you go."

"Fine," I spat, yanking my arms from Emmett's grasp the moment his hold loosened. I glared at my asshole uncle, barely holding myself back from pummeling him into the floor. "Leave, Carlisle!" I demanded as I pointed toward the exit.

Esme pulled her husband toward the open door with tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she mouthed to me while Carlisle's back was turned. I nodded my head to her, hoping she understood that my ire was not directed at her. Carlisle huffed haughtily and pulled away from Esme, rushing out of the room and down the stairs.

"Dammit," Marcus sighed as he ran his hand through his graying hair. "I'm sorry I called him, Edward. I thought…well, never mind what I thought. It doesn't matter now."

"Please don't contact him on my behalf again, Marcus," I sighed as my anger slowly melted away. "He's obviously still harboring an enormous amount of hatred toward me and I'm really fucking tired of these accusations he keeps making toward Bella. He spoke to her harshly in the hospital as well, although she wouldn't tell me what was said."

"I understand," Marcus replied. "I should apologize to Bella as well."

At the mention of her name, I swung around to face Bella, horrified with my angry outburst. She lay huddled in her bed with her blanket pulled up to her chin. Her lips had taken on an odd blue tint and she was gasping for breath.

"Fuck," I muttered, racing over to the bed and climbing in behind her. "Bella? Sweetheart, you're having a panic attack. I need you to slow your breathing."

She shook her head violently and gripped the sheets almost to the point of tearing. I was sure that had she been holding my hand, her nails would have drawn blood. I grasped her shoulders and pulled her back flush against my chest.

"Please Bella," I begged shamelessly. "Feel my chest…match my breathing." I looked up at Emmett and Marcus standing helplessly in the center of the room.

"We can try another Xanax," Marcus suggested, but I shook my head no.

"She had pain medication not too long ago and you've already given her one Xanax," I sighed, trying to keep my breaths nice and even. "I don't want to run the risk of an overdose. I don't know her threshold."

After several agonizing minutes, Bella's labored breathing began to slow. I rested my chin on her shoulder and watched as her lips moved silently.

"What, sweetheart? What are you saying?" I asked.

"I'm not…I'm not," she chanted softly over and over on a continuous loop.

"You're not what, Bella?"

"I'm not…what your uncle thinks," she gasped out, turning her head slightly to see me better. "I would never hurt you. You're too…good." She was drifting. Her eyes drooped lazily as her breathing continued to even out. Panic attacks were brutal. The adrenaline was intense but the lethargy afterwards…that was sometimes worse.

"I know, Bella. I trust you," I reassured. "You're safe with me." Her head lolled back against my shoulder and she was asleep within seconds.

Emmett gazed at us with a sheepish smile on his face and Marcus looked quite amused at my predicament as well. He walked softly to the bedside and picked up my bleeding hand.

"You've broken some of these stitches, Edward," Marcus whispered. "Though I think we can fix them up with some butterfly bandages." He turned back to Emmett and asked, "Can you grab the first aid kit and a bowl of warm water with a clean cloth?"

"Sure," Emmett mumbled before darting from the room.

Marcus turned back to me, the hard lines of his face etched with concern. "Edward, I'm not sure what all of this means, but I'm worried…not just for your safety, but for hers as well," he said stoically, gesturing to the sleeping beauty in my arms. "I don't know how she came to be in that alley, but what I do know is that they are looking for you…and quite possibly her as well."

"I know," I sighed, brushing my uninjured hand through Bella's hair.

"No one leaves this house until I find out more. Understood?" I nodded in agreement as Marcus took my vacant chair next to the bed. His eyes softened as he took in my protective hold around Bella's small frame. "Edward, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the fact that a lot of hasty words were thrown around today; by you, by Carlisle…even by me. Insinuations were made and I'm afraid too much has been said. You should consider talking with your friends. Come clean, son."

"I can't, Marcus. I don't want to be that person," I sighed uncomfortably, shifting a bit under his penetrating gaze.

Marcus put a firm hand on my shoulder. "But you are that person, Edward…you always have been."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you all for taking time to read my little story. I truly appreciate all of your reviews, favs, and follows! I love to read everyone's take on James and Vicki as well as Carlisle. So, I'll let you get to it.**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

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><p>EPOV<p>

We had been holed up in this house for almost a week and were beginning to go a little stir crazy. Rosalie and Emmett took their mandated vacation in stride, utilizing every opportunity to have explosive arguments over ridiculous infractions followed up immediately by round after round of angry makeup sex. You'd think with their histories, that kind of roughhousing would be off limits…but instead it only proved to stoke the flames between those two. I almost did a happy dance when Marcus arrived night before last to inform Rosalie and Emmett that they could return to work at the bar.

Bella and I, on the other hand, were still on lock down. The private investigator that Marcus hired was unable to locate James or Vicki and the police had absolutely no new leads. I could only hope that they had left the area for good, but I wasn't holding my breath.

Since Bella and I were imprisoned together, I spent most of my time trying to get to know her a little better. Her bruises were healing well and had faded from a deep plum to a sickly yellow and her skittish tendencies had begun to diminish right along with them, leaving behind a more confident and equally beautiful girl. I'd be a fucking liar if I said my cock didn't stand up and take notice. I was developing callouses on my hand from the abuse I was inflicting on my poor dick, but try as I might, I just couldn't stay away from Bella.

She was different from the other tenants we'd had in the past, her only real transgression was that she had been dealt a shitty hand in life. She wasn't a substance abuser and didn't have any mental deficiencies I was aware of. All in all, she was a good girl who handled a devastating situation as best she could. It really wouldn't take much for Bella to get on her feet and then she would leave, destined for far better things than being stuck with me.

What I couldn't figure out was why I was so drawn to her. My protective streak ran deep with Bella…even before I knew she had been abused by James. There was just something about her…

"Edward? Are you okay?" Bella asked, looking at me inquisitively from the opposite end of the couch. We had been talking about some of the other tenants that had come and gone in the past before I spaced out and my mind went off on its own tangent.

I shook my head and looked down at my lap where my hand rested innocently on Bella's uncasted sock covered foot, both of her legs resting over my thighs and covered by a thick sherpa blanket. "Sorry, I was just thinking…"

"Am I bothering you? Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit? You don't have to keep me entertained," she sighed as she twisted her fingers in her lap. Her innocent fidgeting was one of the little quirks that I found so absolutely endearing about her. Well, that and her blush. Damn, what that blush did to me.

"No, Bella, you're no bother at all. I've really enjoyed spending time with you…maybe a little too much." My eyes stayed trained on my lap as my own cheeks colored in embarrassment from my declaration. I chanced a quick look in her direction only to find her beaming back at me.

"I've enjoyed spending time with you as well, Edward," she smiled sheepishly. "I never expected to find another friend." My heart sank a little at her depiction of our relationship. I found myself wanting something _more_ with her. Logically, I knew that Bella was too good for a fuckup like me, but I was a selfish bastard deep down. I just wanted a chance to be with her.

As if she could sense the shift in my mood, she bent her knees and scooted closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder. "I'm so glad you found me that night. I don't want to think about what else could have happened-"

I shifted around a bit so that I could look her in the eyes. "Please don't think about the what-ifs, Bella. The fact is I _did_ find you and you're safe with me. I would never hurt you." I cupped her cheek gently and smiled as her eyes fluttered closed and she nuzzled into my palm. Her plump lips parted slightly and brushed against my skin, lighting a fire deep in my belly.

"Bella…" I whispered with my heart in my throat. Her eyes opened slowly, regarding me carefully as I gathered my thoughts. "Can I…kiss you?"

Her eyes widened in shock as she gasped softly.

Sensing her impending rejection, I backpedaled quickly. "Fuck, I'm sorry. That was rude of me. Don't pay me any mind, Bella-"

"Edward, stop," she beseeched, placing her hand over my own to keep me from pulling away. "I..I want you to kiss me. I do. I just…" She trailed off and shrugged her shoulders as tears pooled in her eyes.

"Just what, Bella?"

She sighed and gazed at me nervously. "I…don't' know…how. I've never…kissed anyone. I'm afraid I'd be bad at it."

It was my turn to be shocked as I looked back at her in wonder. "Never?" I breathed. "I'm sorry…I just assumed maybe Jake…or someone else while you were living with Jake. _Never?_"

She shook her head briskly, her hair whipping about her shoulders as she wiped warm tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. I ran my fingers through my own hair, gripping the roots harshly as I contemplated how truly innocent Bella was. I grieved for the loss of her innocence; the only intimacy she had experienced had been forced on her by that fucker, James.

I closed my eyes and breathed evenly through my nose, calming myself before looking back at Bella. She seemed so embarrassed by her admission and I wanted to ease her distress.

"Bella…I would like nothing more than to kiss you, but I would never force you against your will. I know that you're nervous, but I promise I won't hurt you," I tried to reassure her.

"I trust you, Edward. I don't think you would ever hurt me or lie to me," she mumbled. "You c-can kiss me if you want. I…I mean…I want you to."

My heart twisted painfully at her somewhat misplaced trust. I would never intentionally hurt Bella, but I _was_ a liar…just not about this. I leaned in carefully and placed both hands on her cheeks, gently pulling her face toward mine. As my lips lowered toward hers, I could feel the heat from her soft pants, the moist air warming my lips. Looking into her eyes one more time, I searched for any hesitance, but was met with only visceral need. As our eyes closed, our lips finally met in the sweetest of kisses, her lips so incredibly soft and pliant against my own.

I teased her lips with the tip of my tongue as she sighed and opened her mouth to me. A low moan built in my throat and I pulled her closer to me, wrapping one arm around her waist and running my opposite hand around the back of her neck. Not wanting to push my luck, I slowed the kiss, pecking her mouth lightly before I pulled back to look at her.

Bella's eyes remained closed and her cheeks were flushed, a bare hint of a smile gracing her face. "That was…lovely," she breathed, finally opening her heavy lidded eyes to gaze at me. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome, beautiful Bella," I smiled.

Our moment was interrupted by a harsh knock at the front door. Startled, I whipped around at the sudden intrusion. Bella trembled next to me, her eyes darting between me and the door as our uninvited guest jiggled the locked handle persistently. I pulled her into my side and ran my hand through her hair.

"It's alright Bella, I won't let anything happen to you," I stated, hugging her tightly to me and kissing her head before rising from the couch to get to the phone. I didn't know who was on the other side of that door, but I wanted Bella to have the phone handy to call 911 if shit should go wrong.

A familiar voice sounded from the other side. "Edward!" Marcus called out. "Open the door, Edward!"

I was there in an instant, unlocking the deadbolts and pulling it open to reveal a disheveled and soot covered Marcus.

"What the fuck?"

Marcus wheezed as he stumbled through the entryway and into the room, landing in a heap on the floor as he clutched his chest. "Edward! The bar's on fire! Rosalie….Emmett…"

I knelt by his side, trying to make sense of what he was telling me as I helped him to his feet. "What! The bar's on fire?" I sputtered. "Has the fire department been called?" Marcus nodded and coughed harshly. "Is everyone alright? Where are Rose and Emmett? Are they okay?"

"They've been taken to the hospital. I can't tell you anything about their injuries! They were already being loaded into the ambulances when I got there-"

"Fuck!" I shouted, my eyes darting from Marcus to Bella. I rushed over to the couch and pulled on my shoes. "Bella, I need to get to the hospital."

"I'm coming with you, Edward. I don't feel safe here by myself. I want to be where you are!" Her voice rose in pitch with each spoken word as her anxiety escalated. I was actually relieved that she wanted to go. The thought of leaving her here alone drove me to a near panic attack. She was safer with me.

I nodded in agreement and pulled Bella up off the couch and into my arms. She was still unable to use her crutches due to her fractured wrist, so for the time being I was her mode of transportation. I grabbed the blanket as well and wrapped it around her shoulders. Although Bella was dressed in a thick sweater and yoga pants, it was still winter and the hospital was bound to be cold.

Marcus led us out of the house and down to his waiting car, coughing violently into his fist while I settled Bella into the backseat. I slammed her door and climbed into the passenger seat as Marcus slid behind the steering wheel, his shaking hands fumbling with the keys in the ignition.

"Dammit," he mumbled as he finally got the car started and we were on our way. The drive seemed to take forever as my mind whirled with possible scenarios.

"Do you know what happened, Marcus?" Bella asked from the backseat.

His worried eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. "No, I don't know anything. I'm the contact person listed for the bar, so the police department called me while the fire department battled the blaze."

"How bad was it?" I whispered, closing my eyes and steeling myself against his answer.

Marcus cut his eyes to me and simply shook his head. Fuck…a total loss. I sighed heavily and nervously chewed the inside of my cheek as we sped down the highway.

"Which hospital were Rose and Emmett taken to?" I asked, although I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

"Cedars-Sinai…and before you throw a tantrum, just know that the paramedics thought it best to take them to a hospital equipped to handle burn patients," Marcus replied.

Fuck…_burn patients_.

I closed my eyes against the onslaught of horrific images. "Please drive faster, Marcus," I whispered as my stomach churned. I couldn't even find it in me to be angry that we were headed back to the hospital where I was sure to run into Carlisle. I wanted Emmett and Rosalie to have the best care possible and if that meant facing my asshole uncle, then so be it.

"We were lucky the fire happened when it did. Emmett was closing up and all the other employees and other patrons had already left," Marcus stated with a measure of both relief and regret in his voice.

"Do you know how it started? Where it started?" Bella asked Marcus. Her warm hand met the back of my neck and rubbed small circles in a soothing gesture.

"No," Marcus answered remorsefully. "The building was already engulfed when I arrived."

"Damn," I muttered, shaking my head.

The car screeched to a stop as we pulled up to the familiar emergency room doors. I hopped out and gently pulled Bella from the back seat.

"I'll park and be in right behind you!" Marcus called out as he swiftly pulled away.

I hauled ass into the emergency room, settling Bella into the first vacant wheelchair I could find, and proceeded to the check-in desk.

A familiar face grinned through greasy lips from behind the reception desk. "Can I help you?" the blonde asked me, smacking her gum incessantly.

"My friends were admitted a little bit ago. Emmett McCarty and Rosalie Hale? Can you tell me where they are?"

Her fingers flew over keyboard, the constant clacking further irritating my already frayed nerves. "Mr. McCarty is being admitted and Ms. Hale-"

"Edward!" Rosalie called from the hallway. My head snapped in her direction as I mumbled a quick thank you to the receptionist. Bella and I quickly made our way over to Rosalie and we were soon joined by Marcus. I pulled Rosalie down into a vacant chair and sat next to her, gripping her hand in mine as she broke down into hysterics.

"Rose, are you okay?" I asked, pulling her into a quick hug. She smelled strongly of smoke and her clothes were covered in soot. Her shuddering sobs wracked her body as she clung to me.

"I'm ok-kay," she hiccupped. "Just some smoke inhalation. Emmett…he's hurt. They won't tell me-"

"Shh, shh, shh," I hushed her gently, rocking her back and forth, trying to calm her. "I'm sure he'll be okay. Can you tell me what happened?"

Rosalie sniffled and pulled away, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her coat. Marcus offered his handkerchief, which she accepted with a quiet thanks. "We were closing up like normal; there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. I was cleaning up the restrooms when I heard Emmett yelling. By the time I got back out front, there was smoke everywhere. Emmett was screaming at me to get out, but I couldn't see him and the smoke was so thick…"

"Where was Emmett?" Marcus asked. "Behind the bar?"

"I-I don't think so," she replied, her brow wrinkled in confusion. "His voice sounded like it was coming from the storeroom. I got turned around and couldn't find the exit. It was so hot and hard to breathe. Emmett appeared out of nowhere, tossed me over his shoulder, and carried me outside."

"Fuck," I muttered, running my hand through my hair.

The double doors leading to the observation rooms swung open and Carlisle walked out, his nose buried in a file. He looked up, searching the room until his eyes met mine. I jumped from my seat and rushed forward, my hostility for the man momentarily forgotten.

"Are you treating Emmett?" I asked.

He nodded slowly, his eyes cold and void of any emotion. "Yes, I was called in for a consult but took over his care when I realized who he was."

"How is he?" Rosalie asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Carlisle sighed heavily before leading us back over to our seats. "Emmett has second degree burns on both hands extending up his left arm and around to his back. He also has burns on his left leg and hip. The burns are only partial thickness which means he won't require a skin graft, but the skin will blister. It will take three weeks or so for the burns to heal completely."

"But he'll be okay?" Rosalie cried, her tears beginning anew.

Carlisle's eyes softened and his impartial façade slipped away. He gathered Rosalie in his arms and hushed her gently. "He'll be okay, Rose. He's going to hurt for a while and we'll need to keep him for a few days, but his burns will heal and he'll be back to normal before you know it."

I sighed in relief. "Can we see him?"

Carlisle nodded. "He's being moved to room 412. You can go on up, but I don't want everyone to stay. He been given a lot of pain medication and he needs his rest. So, you can have an hour. Rosalie, I'll set up a cot for you, okay?"

"Thank you, Carlisle," she sighed, the relief evident in her voice.

"I have to get back to work, but I'll come check in on him in about thirty minutes." Carlisle hugged Rosalie one last time and stood up quickly, intent on continuing his rounds. With a brief glance in my direction, he turned on his heel disappeared down the hall.

Grasping the handles of Bella's wheelchair, we all made our way up to the fourth floor and into Emmett's room. As we piled inside, I was surprised to find Emmett awake. Incredibly groggy, but awake none the less.

"Hey," he mumbled to everyone. "Marcus, the bar…it's gone…I tried…to put it out…"

Tears filled my eyes as I took in the bandages covering his hands and arm. There was so much I wanted to say. I wanted to cry in relief that he was still here with us and scold him for not getting out of the building sooner, but the words died in my throat as I stared down at his prone form.

"Don't worry about it, Emmett," I choked. "We're just glad you and Rose made it out before you were hurt any worse."

A sharp knock on the door drew my attention as two men pushed their way into the room, flashing their badges and identifying themselves as Detectives Adler and Hanson with the Los Angeles Arson Unit. They scanned the room as if looking for someone in particular, before their eyes settled on me.

"You are Edward Masen, correct? The owner of Masen's Bar?" Detective Adler asked as he approached me cautiously. "You probably don't remember me, but I was the lead arson investigator on your father's murder case."

I frantically looked around the room as all eyes landed on me; the looks of remorse, hurt, and confusion cutting through me like a hot knife.

Sensing a change in the atmosphere, Detective Adler cleared his throat and trudged ahead. "Mr. Masen? We need to talk."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you all for taking time to read and review! So, yes, Emmett's okay, but Edward may be in some hot water. There is mention of suicide in this chapter. If this is a trigger for you, please skip the italicized paragraphs.**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

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><p>EPOV<p>

"Masen?" Rosalie stared at me, utterly bewildered. "Your last name's Cullen…right?"

My mouth opened and closed several times as I tried to start the conversation I never intended to have, but that fucking detective beat me to it.

"No ma'am, Cullen is his aunt's surname-"

"Detective Adler, I would rather not discuss this here," I huffed. "Is there something in particular you need from me?"

"Well, Mr. Masen-"

"Edward…just Edward," I corrected, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Alright…Edward. We were notified that Masen's Bar caught fire tonight. The firefighters were unable to save the structure and notified the Arson Unit that the blaze was particularly intense. We'll begin an investigation in the morning as to whether or not the fire was set intentionally."

"What does that have to do with me? I wasn't there."

"You are the owner of the bar-"

"Actually, no he's not," Marcus snapped. "Masen's Bar is owned by the Masen Family Trust-"

"Of which Edward Masen is the sole beneficiary and you, Mr. Volturi, are the trustee." Detective Adler added curtly, pointing his finger in Marcus' direction. "See, I did my homework."

Realizing that tempers were quickly getting heated, I stepped in to squash this little impromptu rehash of my family history. "Detective Adler, can we do this another time? My friend is badly injured and I'd like to concentrate on him for the moment. I'm happy to answer any questions you may have, but not right now."

The detective's eyes narrowed as he eyed me suspiciously. "Fine, Mr. Masen. You can come down to the precinct tomorrow at noon." He turned his gaze to Rosalie, taking in her disheveled appearance. "We'll also need an official statement from you, Miss. I take it you and the injured gentleman were in the building when the fire started, correct?"

"Yes," Rosalie hissed, cutting her eyes toward me. "I'll come down tomorrow with _Mr. Masen_, but I'm afraid you won't be able to get Emmett's statement until he's more lucid." The heat from her glare burned through me, scorching my very soul. Fuck, Marcus was right…I should have told them.

"Very well," Detective Adler proclaimed with a condescending tone as he turned and pulled his silent partner toward the door. "I'll see you all tomorrow. And Mr. Masen…Edward, feel free to bring your attorney."

Marcus growled low under his breath. He hated being referred to like a common lap dog. "We'll be there."

Relief flooded through me as the detectives finally exited the room. I dropped down into the closest chair and hung my head, completely stunned as to tonight's course of events. The bar was gone - possibly torched on purpose, my friends were injured, and my dirty laundry had just been aired to everyone who mattered in my life.

Fuck me.

"I don't understand," Rosalie spat as she stared me down, her eyes full of hurt and contempt. "Your name is Edward Masen? Not Cullen? _You_ _own the bar?"_

"Rosalie," Marcus sighed, "can we please not do this now?"

"Why not now?" Rosalie stood from her chair and began to pace the length of the small hospital room before finally coming to stop right in front of me, glaring accusingly. "I thought I knew you! Is this just some sort of game to you?"

My eyes filled with tears as her verbal assault sent slivers of ice deep into my heart. "No Rosalie," I whispered. "I've been exactly where you were a year ago. This was never a game to me-"

"Stop! Just stop!" Bella shouted from her wheelchair in the corner. My heart splintered further at her outcry. "Rose," Bella huffed, "you've had a rough night. So, please stop attacking Edward."

Rose snapped her mouth closed and stomped back over to Emmett's bedside, plopping down in the chair and gripping his hand tightly. She refused to look at me again.

I chanced a glance in Bella's direction and was surprised to see her staring intently at me with compassion shining brightly in her eyes. "Edward, our hour is almost up. Will you take me home?"

Nodding wordlessly, I stood up and crossed the room, slipping behind Bella's wheelchair. As I grasped the handlebars, Bella reached her hand up behind her shoulder and placed it over mine in a comforting gesture. I could have fucking cried right then and there.

I pushed her toward the door and Marcus followed close behind. With a parting glance toward Rose and Emmett and a painful lump in my throat, I whispered, "I'm sorry for what you must think of me right now, Rosalie, but I truly hope you give me a chance to explain."

Offering no response, Rosalie's eyes stayed trained on Emmett's sleeping form as we slipped from the room and made our way back down to the car. The ride home was heavy with an oppressive atmosphere, the silence only broken by my labored breathing. Marcus asked if I would like for him to come up so that we could talk, but I just shook my head no. Right now, I just wanted to go to bed and pretend that my past wasn't rearing its ugly head.

After getting Bella settled for the night, I turned to leave her room when her quiet voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Edward? Please wait."

I couldn't bear to turn and look at her. I didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes. This whole time, I thought I was doing the right thing…fulfilling my father's legacy. What a total fuckup I turned out to be.

"Go to sleep, Bella…it's been a long day." Ignoring her plea, I turned out the light and closed the door behind me, making my way down the hall to my own room. I slammed the door behind me and stripped down to my underwear, falling into bed as I let the angry tears streak down my temples and into the pillow below.

I closed my eyes and willed the tears into submission as I flung my forearm over my eyes. I silently prayed for sleep to take me; hoping beyond reason that I could have a do-over…reset this horrific day. My memories seemed to be on rewind as I relived Rosalie's accusations, Emmett's burned appendages, and Marcus' shrill screams that the bar was on fire. As my mind began to shut down, I saw Bella's beautiful face and beaming smile; felt the softness of her lips against mine.

As sleep pulled me under, my last thought was of that wondrous kiss. Maybe today hadn't been all bad…

_Happy fucking birthday to me. So maybe I had been a tad melodramatic to attempt this on my birthday, but what the fuck did I have to lose? My head was pounding and my whole damn body ached, but it was the incessant beeping from that fucking heart monitor that was driving me absolutely batty. A loud commotion from the hallway caught my attention and I just knew my personal hell was about to get a whole lot worse._

_The door to my hospital room flew open, hitting the wall with a resounding thud as an enraged Carlisle stormed inside with Marcus hot on his heels._

_"__You selfish little prick!" Carlisle spat as he grabbed for my hospital gown. Marcus gripped his other arm and managed to yank him back a few feet as Carlisle continued to hurl insults at me. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Haven't we been hurt enough? __Hasn't __Esme been through enough?"_

_I pulled the blanket up over me and tried my best to ignore my furious uncle, refusing to meet his heated glare._

_"__Look at me you little shit! Do you have any idea what __you've __put your aunt through today? First, she's abducted by those sick, twisted friends of yours; forced to endure depravities so horrible she won't even tell me what really happened. Then she's made to suffer the anguish of the trial for their crimes against both her and your father, all of which rest squarely on your shoulders. Yet, after all that, the only redeeming act you can think of is to end your own life!"_

_At my shrug of indifference Carlisle lunged toward me again, grinding his teeth as he growled at my insolence. Marcus was able to restrain him once more and pulled him toward the door, pleading with him to calm down before security was called._

_After several long moments, Carlisle gave up his struggle against Marcus, defeated and grieving. "You disgust me. God forgive me, but I'm glad your father __isn't __here to see how you turned out. It was his mission in life to help those less fortunate and he would be devastated to see you this way…a good for nothing degenerate. I refuse to take the blame. After his death, I tried, Edward…fuck I tried. We brought you into our home…treated you like a son. And this is the thanks we get!"_

_While my silence was actually due to the rather uncomfortable heaviness in my chest at the mere mention of my father, Carlisle took it as a sign of further indignation._

_"__I'm done, Edward...I'm just done," he sighed, slowly turning and stumbling out of my room._

_I closed my eyes against the onslaught of tears and fought back the nausea, swallowing endlessly until the rolling in my stomach subsided. A warm hand landed on my arm and I looked up into Marcus' weary eyes._

_"__Oh, Edward…why would you do this?" he pleaded, his eyes glassing over as he examined the various tubes and wires leading from my body to various machines scattered about the room. "Please, help me understand-"_

_"__What's to understand, Marcus? I'm a fuckup. __Didn't __you hear Carlisle? It's all my fault; Esme's assault, my father's death, everything."_

_"__He's distraught, Edward," Marcus sighed as he took a seat in the small chair next to my bed. "You tried to kill yourself. It was pure luck that Esme found you. He's angry…and rightfully so."_

_I groaned loudly in frustration and turned away from him. "Not you too, Marcus-"_

_"__Hey, don't pull that petulant teenage bullshit with me, son. I won't fall for it like Carlisle does. Your father…he was my best friend; the kindest and most selfless man __I've __ever known. I'm a better person because of him."_

_I detested talking about my father. If it __wasn't __for me, he'd still be alive. He did so much…gave so much. My father truly was my hero. I just __didn't __realize it until it was too late._

_"__He loved you so very much," Marcus continued, "even though he __didn't __know how to show it. I know there was a…rift…between the two of you. You felt alone and ignored. He __didn't __have a good sense of balance for the true passions in his life."_

_I shrugged nonchalantly as if his words meant nothing to me. "I had Carlisle and Esme…they were pretty good stand-ins for when my father was on one of his crusades."_

_"__But they __weren't __him, son. They __weren't __your father. I understand. __We've __all made mistakes in this life." Marcus's voice was thick with regret and cracked on the last syllable. "Don't continue down this path of self-destruction, Edward. Become the better man; the man your father always knew you would turn out to be."_

_My tears flowed in earnest and I tried to quickly wipe them away, only to have more take their place. I was a bottomless well of grief and there seemed to be no end. "How, Marcus? __I've __lost everything! Destroyed the lives of everyone I love!"_

_"__Let me help you, son. I can help you. You haven't lost me."_

My eyes snapped open and I sat straight up in bed, clutching at my chest while I tried to slow my pounding heart. Except for my labored breathing, my room was utterly silent, the inky blackness cut by rays of moonlight streaming through my window.

I finally shook off the last vestiges of my dream and swung my legs off the side of the bed, rubbing my face briskly. In the calm quiet of the extremely early morning hours, my thoughts were a cacophony of jumbled memories; each one adding another layer of guilt to my already burdened conscience.

An unfamiliar sound met my ears and I strained to detect its origin. I got up and walked slowly to my bedroom door, creaking it open and peering down the hallway. The noise sounded again; a quiet cry from Bella's room. With my heart in my throat, I rushed to her door and knocked loudly.

"Bella? Are you alright?" Pressing my ear to the door, I continued to hear her muffled cries. In an instant my brain ran through all of the actions I took upon our arrival home. The door was locked and the alarm was set, of that I was sure. Logically I knew that it was extremely unlikely that someone had broken in, but my head and my heart were in disagreement.

I burst through the door intent on saving Bella from her assailant, only to find her restrained within the confines of her blue sheets, kicking and writhing in her sleep.

"No, no, no…please let me go," she pleaded to her invisible attacker as tears poured from the corners of her closed eyes. Her face was covered with a fine sheen of sweat and her hair was plastered to her forehead.

"Edward…Edward!" she gasped in between gulps of air. Her cries urged me to action as I raced to the side of her bed. I'd never had a panic attack while asleep, but Bella was definitely on the verge of a violent attack right now.

Just as I reached her side, she flew awake, screeching to the ceiling as her eyes darted around the room.

"Bella? Bella! You're safe! It's okay!" I chanted, trying to break through her confusion. "Bella…it's me, Edward." I tried to reassure her, but she was still reeling from her nightmare and pushed me to the floor.

Bella tumbled out of her bed, kicking and screaming, falling to her knees on the floor before scrambling to the nearest corner. She curled into a ball and trembled violently, still caught in the grips of her nightmare. I crawled toward her and clasped her ankle, all the while knowing full well it may only reinforce her fear…but I had to try.

"Please Bella…please, try to calm down," I begged as her blue tinted lips moved soundlessly. I pulled her to me and wrapped myself around her, pressing her back to my chest and placing my palm flat against the base of her throat. I scooted backward and propped us up in the corner with my back to the wall and my legs on either side of hers. "Breathe with me, Bella…please breathe with me."

She struggled for a moment until she burned off the rest of her adrenaline and slumped back against me, utterly exhausted. Under my touch, her anxiety decreased incrementally until finally her breathing began to even out.

"Edward?" Bella whispered into the dark.

Realizing that she was finally lucid, I sighed with relief and closed my eyes. "Yes, Bella, it's me. You're okay sweetheart."

"Wh-what happened?" she asked as goose bumps broke out across her skin.

I wrapped my arms completely around her and rubbed her forearms briskly, helping to warm her up a bit. "You had a panic attack, sweetheart."

"While I was asleep?"

"Yes," I replied. "Nocturnal panic attacks are rare but not unheard of. I…I heard you…from my room. I'm sorry I just barged in, but you were calling out and I thought someone had broken in-"

Bella gasped loudly and began to shake slightly in my arms at the mention of a possible intruder.

"Hey, hey…it's okay. You were having a nightmare. No one broke in, Bella," I reaffirmed. "I didn't mean to make you think otherwise. I'm sorry." Her shaking abated and she snuggled back into my chest, tucking her head under my chin.

"Will you tell me what your nightmare was about?" I asked hesitantly.

"It's all kind of cloudy now…only bits and pieces," she whispered. "Jake was here and he was telling me to run."

"Run from me?" I asked as a painful lump formed in my throat.

"No…not from you. There was fire everywhere," she cried, "and James was blocking my path."

"Shh, Bella, it's okay. I'm sorry that the fire at the bar affected you so much." I hugged her tighter to me, hoping to calm her a bit.

"No…I mean, yes, it did…but in my dream the fire was here…and you were hurt. I couldn't find you." She suddenly turned and looked deeply into my eyes, almost like she was searching for something. "Before the fire broke out, Jake was here…holding my hand like he used to when we were kids. Jake told me to trust you…that you would take care of me. He said you're hiding, but that deep down you're a good man and that I should be patient."

I sighed and closed my eyes against her intense stare. I needed to tell her. Marcus was right; I had to come clean to everyone. I had shunned family for too long and I cared about these people. They deserved to know the truth about me, consequences be damned.

"Jake was wrong, Bella. I'm not a good person, but I _have_ been hiding for far too long." My head fell back against the wall with a hard thud as I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "I'll tell you, Bella…all of it…but I need a few hours to get my thoughts together, okay? Then you can decide if you want to stay with me."

"I don't mean to push, Edward. You don't have to tell me," she mumbled. "I won't condemn you for your secrets."

I could hear the disdain in her voice and instinctively knew that she was referring to the little display that Rosalie made at the hospital.

"Please don't be angry with Rose," I pleaded. "This is all my fault. Marcus warned me and I should have told them the truth ages ago. They're the closest friends I've ever had and I can only hope they'll forgive me once they know everything."

Bella shook her head in disagreement. "Rose's accusations were cruel, Edward. She should have given you the benefit of the doubt."

To an extent, Bella was right. I knew that the things Rose heard came as an incredible shock to her, but I'd known her and Emmett for a year. Surely she could've afforded me a little patience.

"Come on, Bella," I whispered as I climbed off the floor and pulled Bella up into my arms. "Let's get you back into bed for at least a few hours, okay? Then we'll talk."

Wrapping her arms around my neck, she hummed lightly and buried her face into the crook of my neck. "Will you stay with me?" she mumbled. "I don't want to be alone." I could feel the heat from her inflamed cheeks, obviously embarrassed at her admission. "You can have the right side of the bed…I trust you."

I gulped loudly at the thought of sharing a bed with this beguiling creature. "Sure, Bella…anything you want."

I tucked Bella under the covers and then proceeded around the foot of the bed, climbing in on my side. I made sure to leave at least a foot of space between us, even though it left my right leg dangling off the side.

Bella mumbled something that sounded like goodnight, before sleep quickly overtook her. I just stared at the shadows dancing on the ceiling, willing my body into compliance, as I contemplated the possible repercussions from the conversation we would be having in a few short hours.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thank your continuing support! I truly appreciate all of your reviews, favs, and follows! So here is the chapter everyone has been waiting for.**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

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><p>EPOV<p>

I squinted against the sunlight streaming through Bella's window before looking back down at a now peacefully sleeping beauty. She'd been extremely restless until I finally relented and pulled her into my arms. She settled against my chest, wrapping her arm around my waist and carefully winding her legs with mine, her knee brushing against my dick every so often. It was heaven and hell all wrapped up in a package of sweet smelling girl.

"Edmurph schung em…" Bella had been mumbling nonsensically for the last five minutes and I silently prayed that she would wake up soon before my cock jumped up and attacked her. "Shmmph foot…"

I actually let out a little chuckle and a snort at that last one. The sudden movement woke her and she looked up at me through sleepy eyes.

"Hi," she mumbled, reaching up to brush the hair from her face.

"Good morning. I'm glad you got some more sleep." I, on the other hand, hadn't slept a wink since crawling into bed with her, partly due to pure sexual frustration but more so in anticipation of the conversation that would be taking place this morning.

Suddenly realizing how she was wrapped around me, she mumbled an apology and tried to roll away from me, but I stopped her before she could get too far.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" I asked, pulling her back to me and planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," she mumbled as she looked up at me sheepishly.

"Oh, sweetheart…nothing about _this_ could ever make me uncomfortable." I smiled down at her and ran my fingers along her jaw and up to trace her kissable lips. Just as I was about to steal a good morning kiss, our bubble was burst by the slamming of the front door.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath. "That must be Rose." I let go of Bella begrudgingly and moved off the bed. "We need to get dressed, sweetheart," I said, turning back to Bella. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she took in my state of undress.

She quickly averted her gaze and blushed profusely at the sight of my naked torso. "I-I'm sorry."

I rubbed my chest and chuckled under my breath at her reaction. "It's fine, Bella. I was in too much of a hurry to get to you last night to stop and get dressed." Walking over to her dresser, I pulled out a pair of stretchy pants and a t-shirt. "Will these work for today?" I asked, passing the clothes to her. She nodded and laid the clothes next to her on the bed. I was sure she'd like a shower, but with Rosalie angry with me I wasn't positive I could count on her to help right now and I wasn't about to ask. "I'm going to head over to my room and grab some clothes and then I'll be back to take you downstairs. Can you manage on your own?"

"Yeah," she replied a bit hesitantly.

"Okay, I'll be right back!" I sprinted to my room and grabbed the first pair of jeans and t-shirt that my fingers touched. After pulling on my shoes, I rushed back to Bella's room to find her perched on her bed fully dressed.

"Ready to head downstairs?" I asked, watching her face carefully for any signs of distress. Over the last week, Bella and Rosalie had developed an amicable relationship. I wouldn't call them the best of friends, but I had a feeling that whatever progress had been made was blown to hell with Rosalie's unprovoked attack on me at the hospital.

"Yeah," she sighed, her impassive face and monotone voice masking her true reaction.

A feeling of dread unfurled deep in my belly, spreading like an open wound. I approached her slowly and knelt down in front of her. Leaning in, I pressed my lips firmly to hers. In the very near future this beautiful girl would know every black mark that scorched my soul. I wanted one last kiss before she discovered the monster I truly was.

She responded instantly, wrapping her arms around my neck and deepening the kiss. Her cheeks bloomed a beautiful pink as I pulled away. "What was that for?" she panted, staring at me curiously.

"Just in case," I replied. Before she could respond, I stood and swooped her up into my arms, carrying her out of the room and down the stairs. As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks. Rosalie sat at the table, looking haggard and unrested, with a mug of coffee in her hands. Sitting next to her was Marcus.

My utter surprise must have been clear on my face because Marcus immediately jumped in to address the awkward situation. "I'm only here to help, Edward. You and Rosalie are both due at the precinct by noon and I knew that you would want to have this conversation beforehand. Rosalie was heading out when I got to the hospital to see Emmett, so I brought her home."

Nodding, I settled Bella into a chair and moved to make two cups of coffee. My stomach churned as the pungent aroma of coffee bean hit my senses and I swallowed hard, steeling myself against the task at hand. "Thanks for being here, Marcus."

Having had enough of the pleasantries, Rosalie slammed her coffee mug down on the table. "I'm sorry, but I just don't have the patience for this bullshit."

"Rosalie, we discussed this," Marcus admonished in his authoritative tone. "You will be patient and listen."

Properly chastised, Rosalie ducked her head and sighed. "Fine…can we just get on with it?"

I closed my eyes and reined in my irrational temper. Rosalie had every right to be angry with me. I took a few calming breaths before handing Bella her coffee and taking my seat next to her at the table.

"Rosalie…my story is long and complicated. I just ask that you listen before passing judgment, okay?" She nodded infinitesimally, giving me the go ahead to proceed. With a heavy sigh, I began. "My name is Edward Masen, the only son of William and Olivia Masen. My mother died during childbirth and I was raised by my father. Before I came along, my father owned a successful law firm. Not that he needed to work, mind you. He could have easily lived off of proceeds from the family business-"

"What family business?" Rosalie asked as she finished off her first cup of coffee.

I closed my eyes at the inevitable backlash my answer would receive. "Masen Pharmaceuticals." The resulting silence was oppressive and stifling.

"Masen Pharmaceuticals?" Rose asked, her voiced laced with disbelief. "The largest privately owned pharmaceutical company in the world? Your father _owned_ Masen Pharmaceuticals?"

"Jointly owned," I whispered. "The company has been around for centuries and ownership has been passed down through the generations. However, the Masen family has been riddled with short life spans for one reason or another and, as such, my father and Esme were the last two living members of the Masen family until I came along. The company has an independent board of directors, so he and Esme weren't burdened with the everyday dealings of the company and were able to pursue their own endeavors."

Rosalie looked dumfounded as she processed the information I had just given her. "So your dad and aunt Esme…they're like quadrillionaires, right? Then how the fuck did you end up here?"

This was where shit got difficult for me; trying to explain our failed father/son relationship. "My father…he was a crusader, I guess you could say. He didn't need the money, but he went to law school regardless and spent one hundred percent of his time working pro bono. He never made a dime."

Sensing my rising ire, Marcus piped in as he stared at me. "William was an extraordinary man with a heart of gold, but he wasn't without his faults. I worked as his partner at his law firm for many years and could see when the pro bono work just wasn't enough anymore. I tried to convince him that he couldn't save everyone, but my warnings went unheeded. Right about the time Olivia was due with Edward, William stopped practicing law altogether and went in a more altruistic direction; working with outreach programs and drug rehabilitation centers."

"He sounds like a wonderful man," Rosalie interjected, "but you all keep referring to him in the past tense."

"He's dead," I stated, my voice flat and lifeless. "I killed him."

Rosalie and Bella both gasped at my declaration while Marcus pounded his fist against the table. "You did no such thing, Edward, and if I ever hear you say that again I'll punch you in the mouth myself!"

Marcus rose from the table and grabbed the coffee, refilling all of our cups before starting another pot to brew and returning to his seat. "As I was saying, William's need to help those less fortunate was intense, but after he lost Olivia his work absolutely consumed him. His relationship with Edward…suffered."

"Suffered," I snickered resentfully, "it was goddamned nonexistent. Carlisle took me to little league and helped me with my homework while my father was off saving the degenerates of the world." I hung my head and ran my hand through my hair, already completely exasperated with this conversation and we hadn't even gotten to the worst part yet.

"Was it bad for you? Your childhood?" Bella asked, entwining her fingers with mine.

"My early teenage years were pretty rough," I replied wearily. "At that point, my father was gone all the time, so he sent me to a private boarding school when I was thirteen. I was…angry…and looking for a way to lash out. I got mixed up with a bad crowd and was introduced to drugs pretty early on. All of the boys…we had one dealer. Paul." As his putrid name left my mouth, memories flashed before my eyes. Unspeakable depravities that I not only witnessed but also contributed to. My breaths came in short gasps as I was brutally assaulted by images from my past. "What I didn't know was that Paul had me marked from day one. He…he…" I couldn't finish my sentence. My lungs just wouldn't pull in the air that I needed.

Marcus jumped up from his seat and grabbed a medicine bottle from the cabinet, dumping a small pill into his palm. "Edward-"

"No!" I wheezed out, clutching at my chest and counting backward in my head. "No Xanax…just give me…a…moment…please."

Bella rubbed my shoulder and back. "It's alright, Edward, breathe slow."

I nodded and closed my eyes, picturing my lungs as depleted red balloons, slowly reinflating with each breath I took in. While I struggled to regulate my breathing, Marcus carried on in my stead.

"In his youthful ignorance, Edward was taken advantage of. Knowing full well what family Edward belonged to, Paul befriended him and provided any manner of drug Edward was willing to consume all the while plotting on how to get his hands on Edward's money." Marcus sighed and looked at me, carefully gauging my reactions. "When Edward was sixteen, Paul enlisted the help of one of his lackeys, James. Together they killed Edward's father, although we wouldn't discover the identity of his father's killers for almost three years."

As my breathing finally returned to normal, I rejoined the conversation. "After my father's death, Carlisle and Esme took me in, but I was extremely angry at having been robbed of the father I never got a chance to really know. Upon his death, all of my father's estate as well as his share of Masen Pharmaceuticals was transferred to me. I played the part of the well-behaved son perfectly all the while continuing down my path of self-destruction, not caring about the lives I destroyed in the process. When I was seventeen, Carlisle discovered my little habit and sent me away for my first stint in rehab."

Rosalie's steely eyes softened at my admission. Rehab was a concept she understood well and could sympathize with. "How many times were you institutionalized?" she asked softly.

"Four altogether," I replied. I chanced a look at Bella, but she seemed unaffected by my past addiction. "After my second failed stint, Carlisle demanded I leave his home and petitioned the court for conservatorship to block my access to the virtually unlimited funds at my disposal. I became desperate…willing to do _anything_ for a fix."

"Jesus, Edward," Rose sighed. I could tell by the inflection in her voice that she knew exactly what I was talking about. That desperation…it's all consuming. Nothing matters except for the next high. "So, you really know…you've lived through the same hell-"

"Yes, Rosalie…_exactly_ the same." I hung my head as the old familiar shame and disgust washed over me.

"How did you get out?" she asked, her eyes filled with compassion. "What happened to bring you to your senses?" Rosalie knew as well as I did that everyone had a rock bottom…a point at which an addict either conceded and sought help or gave up entirely.

"Esme," I sighed. "Paul and James kidnapped her in an attempt to blackmail Carlisle into relinquishing the conservatorship and releasing my trust fund." My eyes filled with tears and my heart stuttered as I thought back to that day. "They assaulted her…they beat her-"

"Edward, stop," Bella pleaded as her shaking hand covered mine. "You don't have to relive it. We get it."

I nodded minutely and wiped the tears from my eyes. "I discovered their scheme by purely by accident and called the cops. The drug house was raided, Esme was rescued and everyone else in the house was arrested…including me. During the investigation, the detectives stumbled across a multitude of evidence that implicated Paul and James in the death of my father. While Esme had to endure a lengthy trial, I was sent back to court mandated rehab."

"What happened after the trial?" Bella asked me, but it was Marcus who answered.

"Paul and James were convicted of murder, kidnapping, and extortion and sentenced to life in prison." Marcuse eyed me wearily as he continued. "Esme went to therapy to help her come to terms with the horrors she endured. And Edward-"

"Edward tried to kill himself," I interjected as I stared at Marcus.

Bella raised her hand to her mouth and tried to stifle her sob. Rosalie was faring no better with my declaration, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she processed my statement. "Oh, Edward," she whispered.

"It was stupid," I mumbled as Bella continued to cry next to me. I couldn't bring myself to comfort her yet. "I just felt so damn guilty. It was all my fault…all of it; my father's death, Esme's assault, all of it. I couldn't handle it and thought everyone would be better off if I didn't exist."

Bella turned in her chair and tried to stand. "I'm going to be sick," she said, clamping her hand over her mouth. I quickly scooped her up and rushed to the sink where she heaved violently. Rosalie rushed to grab a dishtowel and wet it under the faucet while I pulled Bella's hair away from her face.

"Fuck, Bella, I'm so sorry. I didn't think." She was probably disgusted by my careless actions. Her brother, who had spent most of his life protecting her, died from a horrible disease whereas I tried to take my own life for purely selfish reasons.

With an empty stomach, she slumped back against me. "I'm okay," she muttered. "That just took me by surprise."

"Do you want me to take you back upstairs?" I asked her, my heart sinking.

"No, no…I'm fine now. I want to hear the rest."

I nodded and carried her back over to her chair. Settling back into our seats I picked up where I left off. "That day…it was my nineteenth birthday. Esme was the one who found me and got me to the hospital, but what I remember most is how angry Carlisle was. He pretty much washed his hands of me that day."

"I'm not sure I blame him, Edward," Marcus whispered, "but whereas Carlisle can't let go of his grudges, I forgave your transgressions long ago."

"So does Carlisle still have conservatorship over your affairs?" Rosalie asked.

I shook my head no. "After my suicide attempt, Marcus helped me get my life together. I went back to rehab for ninety days and then started therapy."

"How long were you in therapy?" Bella whispered.

I sighed and grasped Bella's clammy hand in my own, looking into her beautiful hazel eyes. "I'm still in therapy, sweetheart. At least to some extent. I don't go every week, but I haven't quit completely. Once Marcus was confident that I was stable and not in danger of a relapse, he took Carlisle to court to have the conservatorship removed. When we won, I immediately had Marcus move all of the holdings into a Masen Family Trust."

"But, I don't understand," Rosalie huffed as she gazed at me. "That detective said that you own the bar. How is that possible? Marcus recruited us for the halfway house and for the jobs at the bar. Every tenant has had to go through Marcus. Why?"

"Marcus is my trusted friend. He is also my attorney and the trustee over all of my accounts," I sighed, meeting Rosalie's glare. "When I won back the rights to my life, I wasn't sure what to do. All I knew was that I wanted to do something worthwhile…something that would make my father proud. Marcus suggested the halfway house and the bar; a chance to truly help others who were struggling. So to answer your question…yes, I own Masen's Bar and I own this house."

Rosalie's face contorted, first in anger and then confusion. "Don't take this the wrong way, Edward, but why would you live here if you have that kind of money? Why hang around with us?"

"I struggle every day, Rose," I replied. "I prefer to be in the company of people who are like me. Believe it or not, you've helped me just as much as I've helped you."

Rose smiled a little at that statement. I had a feeling that she wouldn't stay angry with me for long. "So I understand that Marcus is your attorney, but what role does he play in your little outreach program? Why do we report to him?"

"For anonymity's sake." I watched her closely to gauge her reaction. "Marcus is my go between. Can you honestly say you would have trusted me knowing what you know now?"

She seemed contemplative for a moment before nodding in agreement. "I suppose you're right. I guess…I can accept this. Although, I'm not sure how Emmett's going to react. He considers you a brother, you know?"

"As I do him, Rosalie. I consider you all my family. I'm closer to you and Emmett than I've been to any other tenant who has passed through those doors," I stated with sincerity. Her answering smile warmed my heart. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth sooner."

"I understand why you didn't," she snorted, "but don't expect me to treat you any different just because you're rich, asshole. You're still cooking."

I chuckled at her seemingly easy acceptance. "Of course. If I leave the cooking to either you or Emmett, we'll starve to death."

Rosalie stood from her seat and made her way toward me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. "Thank you, Edward. Just…thank you." She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and headed for the stairs. "I need to change clothes before we head down to the precinct. Hey, by the way Landlord, the garbage disposal stopped working yesterday morning!" she threw back over her shoulder as she took the stairs two at a time.

Marcus also rose from his chair, rubbing the back of his neck and stretching. "I need to go grab some paperwork from the car and then we'll get ready to leave. I'll be right back," he yawned as he headed out the front door, leaving just Bella and I seated at the kitchen table.

I was almost afraid to look at her. She had been pretty quiet and I wasn't really sure how she was taking all of this.

"Well, at least this explains why your uncle hates me so much," she sighed, her eyes trained on the table.

"What do you mean?"

"When they performed my rape kit, the nurses noted something…a burn…_a_ _brand_," she sniffled.

Oh shit. I knew exactly what she was talking about. James liked to brand his 'working girls' with an insignia; a symbol that displayed ownership. Mine was on my left hip. If Carlisle saw that mark, he would have known that she was affiliated with James. "Bella-"

"He thinks I'm after your money, Edward," she cried. "I swear I didn't know who you were!"

I quickly pulled her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her. "Bella, I believe you…I believe you. Please calm down." I tucked her head under my chin and rocked her gently. "It's okay. Carlisle's wrong about you…I know it."

She slowly leaned back to look me in the eyes. "I'll leave if you want me to, Edward. I don't want to come between you and your family."

I crushed my lips to hers, trying to dispel any lingering doubt of just how much I wanted her. After a moment's hesitance, she kissed me back. We moved in tandem as she moaned into the kiss, her salty tears coating my lips.

Slowing the kiss, I planted one final peck to her pink lips and brushed her hair away from her face. "I don't want you to go anywhere, Bella. I want you right here…with me."

The front door slammed and Marcus sprinted back into the kitchen, his face sweaty and his eyes darting wildly around the room. "I've called the police and we're staying put!" he stuttered.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Marcus?" I shouted, tightening my hold on Bella.

With shaking hands, he placed a piece of paper in front of me. "I only noticed it when I was coming back in. It was taped to the door. Don't touch it; the police will need to dust it for prints."

My head began to swim as I stared down at the words in front of me. The note was simple and to the point.

_Well, well Masen,_

_Sorry to have missed you at the bar, but I'm glad to see __you've __found my missing pet. _

_Now you have two things I want._

_And I definitely plan to collect._

_-J_


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank your continuing support! I truly appreciate all of your reviews, favs, and follows! So…let's check in on Emmett, shall we?**

**As always, I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.**

* * *

><p>EPOV<p>

Detective Adler was bent over the letter still lying unobtrusively on the kitchen table. "And it was just taped to the door?" he asked, snapping on a pair of latex gloves.

"Yes," Marcus replied as he exhaled loudly. "I was heading out to my car and only noticed it as I was coming back in."

Adler read through the note one more time before picking it up by the corner and sealing it into a plastic Ziploc bag with the word 'EVIDENCE' emblazoned in red across the front.

"We'll see if we can lift some prints off of it, so I'll need to fingerprint you, Mr. Volturi, to rule yours out."

"My prints are already on file with the police department, detective," Marcus retorted causing Adler to raise his eyebrows in surprise. "You don't work as many criminal cases as I have without jumping through a few hoops."

Detective Adler harrumphed and then turned his attention toward me. "I'm here as a courtesy because Mr. Volturi interpreted this note as some type of a threat. You'll have to enlighten me here, Mr. Masen. While the note does exhibit a devious undertone, there is nothing outwardly threatening within the statements themselves."

"I realize that, but we have our reasons for being worried," I sighed, running my hand through my unruly hair. I chanced a glance toward the living room where Rose and Bella sat huddled together on the sofa whispering quietly. My heart hurt as I thought back to Bella's near hysterical state earlier after reading the note. I would protect her from that monster if it was the last thing I did. "Detective, I sincerely hope you'll take our concerns seriously. These people…_this family_…means everything to me."

"Of course," Adler responded before taking out a small wire bound notepad from his coat pocket. He sat down gingerly at the table and flipped through several pages before settling on a clean sheet. He patted the pockets of his shirt, coat, and pants before finally producing a pen to continue his interview. "Now, the note is signed 'J'. Any idea who that might be, Mr. Masen?"

I cleared my throat and crossed my ankle over my knee. "I believe it's James Monroe-"

"James Monroe? Your father's murderer?" he scoffed and leaned forward on his elbows, tapping his pen against the table. "Mr. Masen, James Monroe is serving his time further upstate. I seriously doubt-"

"James escaped from California State Prison over three months ago," Marcus interjected. "There was an _incident_ at the bar and I thought it prudent to make a phone call just to give Edward some peace of mind. It was then that we learned of the prison break. The local police have apparently been trying to locate James, but have no clue as to his current whereabouts."

Shock flashed across the detective's face before resuming his look of indifferent professionalism. "You'd think they'd have the decency to notify the victims," he mumbled under his breath. It was the first display of compassion I'd seen the man exhibit. "I'll have to confirm your allegations of course, but even if your information is correct, what makes you think that this note came from James Monroe?"

Marcus quickly relayed the events that occurred with Emmett at the bar almost two weeks ago, glossing over the details of Emmett's explosive recoil.

"Do you think Mr. McCarty could pick his assailants out of a photo array?" Adler asked, his eyes never leaving his notebook as he scribbled furiously.

I shrugged as I kicked my feet out in front of me. "Probably…Emmett's pretty good with faces." That was a fucking understatement. Emmett had a damn near photographic memory. When he worked for Whit, Emmett was the muscle. It was his job to track down whatever miscreant owed Whit money and _persuade_ them to pay up. Remembering faces was just part of the gig, but Emmett was exceptionally good at it.

Adler snapped his notebook closed and stood from his seat. "Then I need to see Mr. McCarty right away. Look…I wish I could do more, but without a blatant written or verbal threat my hands are tied."

"It's fine, detective, I'll take care of security," Marcus responded. "You just find that asshole, James."

Detective Adler nodded, tucking his notepad back in his pocket and heading for the door. "I'll be back in touch in regards to the fire at the bar after I check out this information regarding Mr. Monroe and speak with Mr. McCarty."

Rosalie jumped off the couch and raced toward the detective. "Hey, are you headed to see Emmett now?"

"Yeah, I'm going straight there before I head back to the precinct," Adler confirmed. "Do you need a lift?"

"Yes, please," Rosalie beseeched. "I need to get back to Emmett." She gave me a long sideways glance, her eyes warning me that she would be spilling the beans to Emmett in regards to our earlier conversation.

Fuck.

"Rosalie, maybe we should all go together," I pleaded. "I promise we won't be that much longer here. Marcus and I just need to get some security squared away-"

"It's alright, Mr. Masen," Adler interrupted. "She'll be perfectly safe with me. I'll see her up to Mr. McCarty's room."

Double fuck.

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair, tugging at the roots. I gave Rosalie one more pleading look, but she just smirked in response before heading out the door with Detective Adler in tow.

Sensing my distress, Marcus was already on his cellphone securing around the clock surveillance. He ushered me toward the couch while speaking swiftly in hushed tones into the receiver.

I shuffled through the living room and took a seat next to Bella. She was incredibly pale and her eyes were dull and listless. Her whole demeanor seemed defeated and weighted with a heavy weariness. "Hey," I whispered, grasping her hand in mine and linking our fingers together. "You okay?"

She shook her head softly, refusing to meet my gaze. "James knows I'm here," she mumbled. "He'll come for me-"

"Sweetheart, I know you're scared, but please believe me when I say I won't let him come near you." I scooted closer to her and pulled her legs up over my lap. Her little body was shaking, so I pulled a blanket down from the back of the couch and wrapped her in it. "Bella, I promise I'll keep you safe."

"You can't promise that, Edward," she whimpered. "He's deranged! I mean, he killed your father! He's just toying with us!"

I could tell she was getting worked up again and that was the last thing I wanted, but two sides of my conscience were warring with one another. By all rights, I could send Bella away...hide her somewhere until this sick fuck was apprehended. God knows I had the resources, but I just couldn't bear the thought of her being away from me. Honestly, I couldn't explain it. Never in my life had I been so hung up on a chick as I was on Bella. Her unintentional intrusion into my life was slowly changing the way I looked at the world…and how I looked at myself.

Hence, my dilemma. James knew she was here…with me. A weakness to be exploited.

"Shh, Bella," I cooed in her ear, pulling her tighter to me. "Listen to me. You're right…James is a demented fuck and, at one point in my life, he held all the control over me." Her lip quivered as she stared up at me. "But I'm not that same person anymore, sweetheart. I won't allow him to tear me down again, but more importantly…I refuse to let him have you. No way."

Bella sniffled quietly as she buried her face in my chest. "I want to be the bigger person here, Edward. I want to be strong and tell you that you should let me go, but I'm too scared," she wailed. "I don't want to go back to James or Whit…back to that life! I just want to be with you!"

Marcus reemerged from the kitchen and looked at me sympathetically. "Is she okay?"

I shook my head no, while gently pulling my fingers through her hair. "Marcus, I need a guard-"

"I've got a security crew coming to the house later this evening, Edward."

"No…I mean a guard especially for Bella." She gasped as her eyes shot up to meet mine. "James specifically mentioned her in that note. Until he's back behind bars, I don't want Bella left alone for a second."

"The same goes for you, Edward," Marcus acquiesced. "I'll assign a guard to you both. Hope you can stomach his overbearing ass, Bella. You're going to be stuck with him for a while."

"I'll manage," Bella mumbled as she wrapped her arms around me and tucked her head under my chin. "Thank you, Edward. I can't tell you what this means to me."

"You don't have to thank me, sweetheart," I sighed, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

Marcus smirked at my small show of affection. "You still want to go to the hospital, Edward?"

I nodded slowly while trying to disentangle myself from the blanket that had somehow twisted its way around mine and Bella's bodies during our conversation. "I just know Rosalie is going to air all my dirty laundry and I'm not really sure how Emmett's going to take it. I'd like to get there soon to try to mitigate the damage."

"He cares about you, Edward," Marcus smiled. "Don't discount him just yet."

"No, I'm sure he'll come around eventually. It's just…he's a big guy, you know? Believe it or not, I've been on the business end of his fist and that shit fucking hurts." I threw on my Chucks and glanced back over at Bella while she tugged her shirt back into place and smoothed her hair. "I've got to run upstairs. I'll be right back down and then we'll go, okay?"

"Sure," she smiled and rolled her eyes. "I'll be right here…eagerly anticipating your return."

"Smartass," I mumbled, taking the stairs two at a time. During the days we had been sequestered together, Bella had really started opening up to me. Even though she never graduated high school, she was smart as a whip and funny too. Her sense of humor played in sync to my own, making her all the more easy to talk to and fun to be around. At least for me anyway. She was still pretty skittish around others.

I rounded the corner into my bedroom and strode straight over to my nightstand, opening the drawer and rooting around in the back until I finally reached the prize.

My wallet.

I hadn't laid hands on this fucker in almost a year. It reminded me of everything I wanted to forget…my family, my history, even my own fucking identity. But with the current shitstorm swirling around me, better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. I quickly flipped through to make sure that my driver's license was still there as well as the few photos I carried of my parents and Carlisle and Esme. Satisfied with the contents, I made my way back down the stairs where I found Bella and Marcus in the midst of a quiet conversation.

"Everything okay?" I asked, noting the distressed look on Bella's face.

"Yeah," Bella mumbled. "Marcus and I were just discussing a few things."

My temper was quick to flare as I thought back to Carlisle's verbal assault on Bella. I'd be damned if I'd let anyone else in my family disrespect her. "Marcus, I swear to God-"

Marcus held his hands out in front of him as a sign of surrender. "Edward, she's fine. I was just answering some of her questions."

"It's okay, Edward…really," Bella sighed. "I was just asking about the added security. You know, the uh…additional men…that will be around. I mean, I'm still not really…comfortable…"

Fuck, I was an asshole. I quickly scooped her up into my arms and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry, Bella. I should have realized. We could get a female guard if that would make you more comfortable."

She shook her head slightly, her fingers scratching lazily through the hair at the back of my neck. "Marcus said the same thing, but he also asked that I wait and meet the team he had selected before making that decision."

"I trust his judgment completely if that makes you feel any better." I grinned down at her hoping to reassure her and calm her nerves a bit. Her tentative smile was all the answer I needed. "Shall we go?"

They both nodded in agreement as we headed out of the house and down to the car. The ride to the hospital was rife with tension; the anticipation of my chat with Emmett gnawing away at my insides. It took almost a full five minutes to make myself leave the car once we had pulled into the parking lot and each step toward the burn unit felt like a death march to the electric chair.

As we turned the last corner toward Emmett's room, I caught sight of Rosalie. She had just left Emmett and was walking toward me with a stern look on her face, inspiring very little confidence that I would come out of this unscathed.

"How is he?" I asked, my voice shaking with dread.

"Lucid…and waiting for you." Her face was a stony mask, giving away nothing.

Bella glanced over her shoulder, her hazel eyes clouded with worry as she gazed up at me. "I could come in with you," she offered sweetly.

"No, I need to speak to him first," I sighed. "Why don't you guys head to the waiting room and I'll be there shortly, okay sweetheart?"

She nodded at me as Marcus took my place behind the wheelchair and pushed her down the hallway. I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve before opening the door and stepping into Emmett's room. His blue eyes met mine right away, his lips set pressed together in a thin line. We stared at one another for a few moments before I hung my head in shame.

"You're pissed-"

"Damn right I'm pissed, Edward. We've known each other for a whole fucking year!" he shouted, sitting up in his bed. "What a waste…" he sighed shaking his head in disgust. "I mean, for fuck's sake, we could have had Sports Center all this time. Do you even realize how much hockey we've missed?"

My head snapped up at his declaration, shocked and a little confused by his reply. Of all the things to be pissed about…

"Really, Emmett? You're pissed about hockey?"

"Sorry, bro, I've never been a big football fan," he snickered, his whole body shaking with the effort it took to contain his laughter.

I just shook my head at his silly antics, relieved that I still had my best friend. "Seriously, Emmett, I'm sorry I kept this from you."

"Dude, do you honestly think I didn't know something was up with you? I mean…I'm no fucking Sherlock Holmes or anything, but you weren't exactly _discreet_."

Well now he had my fucking attention. I was always incredibly careful. All of my mail was sent to Marcus and I didn't even carry my driver's license, all in order to keep my real identity a secret. "How did you know?"

"It was the little things I guess," he sighed, reaching his wrapped arm out toward the pitcher of water perched atop the rolling table.

I rushed around the foot of the bed and filled a Styrofoam cup, repositioning the straw and holding it to his lips. "What little things?" I asked, intrigued by his response.

Emmett took a long pull of the cold water before settling back against his pillows. "Thanks man," he mumbled as he shifted around a bit to get comfortable. "So, yeah…the little things. Like how you've been at the halfway house for fucking ever and how you seem to take personal responsibility for every tenant in the house, asshole or not. You must've apologized to Rose a thousand times for bringing Royce home…like it was your decision. And remember Peter? He'd relapsed and went back to work for Whit, but then here you came riding in to save him…although you did fucking shoot me. I should have been really pissed about that."

We both chuckled at that little admission, causing Emmett to grimace a little with the movement. He was right in his assumptions, though. Looking back now, I took a much more active role in the day to day aspects than I originally thought. Guess I wasn't so sly after all.

"Then there's that whole situation at the bar," Emmett sighed wearily. "I promise I wasn't snooping, but Marcus asked me to drop off some ledgers and stuff at his office…for the accounting, you know? Well, you don't have a personnel file back there like everybody else. Everyone has a folder because Marcus requires all that direct deposit shit, but there's not one scrap of paper in that back office that says you're an employee of the bar. Odd, don't you think?"

He had me there. "Perceptive fucker, aren't you? I think you're in the wrong line of work."

He snorted in response. "Yeah, well like I said, I'm no detective. I just notice shit is all. Honestly, I had no idea who you really were. I kept thinking you were ex-mafia or something. When Rose explained who you were…well, it just all clicked."

"Clicked?"

"Yeah, I don't blame you. You're one of us, Edward…a degenerate searching for redemption." His face took on a pained expression as he looked down at his lap. "The fact that you have money doesn't make you a different person or your personal struggles any less difficult or painful. This may be your program, but you're a participant just like the rest of us. So…thank you…for everything you've done for us."

"Jesus, Em, you don't have to fucking thank me," I sighed, running my hand through my hair nervously. "Like I told Rose, I'm here with you guys because it helps me too. I struggle just like all of you. And the bar…I work there because I'd rather do an honest day's hard work than have anything handed to me. I just don't need the paycheck, so I never took one. More than anything, the bar's just a way to help the tenants earn some money to get back on their feet."

Emmett looked positively stricken at my words. He gulped loudly and tried to continue, but his voice was thick with emotion. "Fuck, man, I'm so sorry about the fire."

"Emmett, the fire wasn't your fault!" I exclaimed, shaking my head in disbelief. "You could have died in there. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I saw the fuckers who started the fire, Ed," he shouted excitedly as he stared back at me. "They were in the back storeroom and the place reeked of gasoline. I grabbed the chick, but the asshole ponytail guy hit me from behind and then tossed a match before I could stop him." Emmett averted his gaze and lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. "I tried, man…but the place went up so fucking fast. It was all I could do to grab Rose and get the hell out of there."

"The blond ponytail guy that jumped you in the alley? He was the one that started the fire?"

"Yeah, him and that red headed chick," he sighed. "Dude, I'm so fucking sorry. I shouldn't have provoked them that night."

I sank down in the recliner and hung my head. I should have known. James fucking Monroe.


End file.
